Stand & Fight to the Finish
by J. David Marx
Summary: As the Romulan War continues, a plan is set into motion that will either give victory to the Allies, or bring forth defeat. It's all or nothing as Archer must lead the Enterprise on its most important mission: leading the siege at Cheron.
1. Chapter 1

Star Trek Enterprise:

Stand and Fight to the Finish

By JD Marx

1/17/07

Dear Fan Fic Community:

It has indeed been a while since I had posted any of my stories. The last story I was working on in collaboration with my girlfriend then (now my wife) was _Angel_: _All Apocalypses Aside_. We hope to one-day finish the story that has attracted many fans. We thank all of you and apologize for our absence and hope that one day we will be able to finish it. Now onto my newest project. Enjoy it and please review.

Author's Note

The story you are about to read came about from a desire to totally forget "_These Are the Voyages_" which was a finale that was more for the Star Trek franchise than a true series finale for the cast and crew that brought _Enterprise_ to our entertainment every week for four years.

_Stand and Fight to the Finish _also came forth from irritation over the fact that we would never see the Romulan Wars. There was hope that the now mothballed Star Trek: The Beginning would show us the Romulan Wars on the big screen. It was hoped by millions of fans that this big screen treatment would be epic and deserving of the title Star Trek.

Yet, as is the case in Hollywood, not everything works out like planned. And perhaps we'll never know what the Romulan War looked liked. Time will only tell. But in the mean time, I hope you enjoy my view of what the war could have been like. And enjoy what I consider a tribute to the crew of the NX-01 _Enterprise_.

I have an entire series planned out and only have about three written in script format out of 11 stories that would take place a year before the Romulan War and up to the end of the War. But on the chance that I may never get around to writing the others, I have put as much information in this story as a can that would describe the stories that would come before my series finale of _Enterprise_.

Book 1

A Long Road…

Prologue

Delta Wing entered the sector of the hot zone known as the Dragoon system two and a half hours ago. Having been the one tactical wing in the Allied fleet that had suffered the fewest casualties, Central Command knew that they would be up to the job.

Their job was a hit and run strike. Intelligence indicated that the listening outpost in the system was a prime target to hit. Its destruction would result in a blind spot on the Romulan side of the frontlines.

The only problem with this particular war, was that the Romulans seemingly knew every time they passed into their territory. It was not doubted that they had a sensitive sensor buoy system.

The first three years since the first salvo of the war was fired saw this conflict with the Romulans to be nothing more than border skirmishes and hit and run. But when _Enterprise _and her battle group that would eventually be designated Delta Wing came across Romulan plans of manufacturing a virus to attack Earth with was uncovered, the war heated up.

The Romulans gain ground and the Allies gain it back. The Allies gain ground and the Romulans gain it back. Rarely in the war had the battle gone inward from free space. The last occurrence was four months ago when a Romulan bird of prey began hit and run attacks on systems that not only belonged to the Allies, but the Coalition of Planets as well.

It didn't make sense to why the Romulans would attack the Coalition who had no open hostilities with the enemy of the Allies.

The attack on Coalition assets had brought them into the war. This act had thought to be impossible.

When the conflict first broke out with the lost of the NX-02 _Columbia_, Secretary General Christopher Thorpe of the United Earth charter had traveled to Babel which was the seat of the Coalition of Planets. He asked for their sanction of war.

What resulted was the Coalition split into two halves. One side wanted to engage the Romulans because they believed it was only inevitable. Earth and the Andoria led this party. The other side wanted to leave well enough alone. Vulcan and Tellar led this opposing party.

In the end, Earth, Andoria and their other allies organized a fleet and sent it on its five-month journey to free space while the other races of the Coalition sat back and watched. Relying on diplomacy via subspace to extinguish the fire that was raging on the frontier.

That was all until the Romulans attacked them did they truly see the true intentions of the Romulans. Conquest.

Delta wing consisted of the NX class _Enterprise_, with an Intrepid class compliment: _Powell_, _Yorktown, Geneva, and the Avenger. _Two Neria class Andorian destroyers, and three Endurance class Alpha Centauri cruisers rounded out this battle group.

The wing made their attack run with little resistance other than what was presented by the stationary defense platforms. A couple of atomics and it made a gaping hole in their defense network.

_Enterprise _and the Neria destroyers moved in to destroy the listening outpost that orbited the barren world that was unnamed other than designation D-3 that was the third planet in the Dragoon system. The system nicknamed Dragoon because of a local nebula that resembled a dragon.

As soon as Delta Wing warped into the system and began their attack, they immediately began jamming the local space to prevent any sort of sub space burst message from alerting the rest of the Romulan navy that they were under attack.

But apparently, with the current situation being attacked by two Talon flights that consisted of three interceptors, and two war birds, a message got through.

Delta was being pursued at warp speeds as the hostiles slowly gained grounds. What was sure about both of the force's technology was that anything other than particle-based weapons could not be fired. Delta couldn't fire their spatial and photonic torpedoes, nor could the Romulans fire their equivalent.

With the current situation of the Romulans gaining ground, it was only a matter of time before they fired a barrage of particle weapons at the fleeing Allied ships.

Since evasive maneuvers at high warp were dangerous, the flight leader of the wing, Captain Jonathan Archer ordered all ships to pull the maneuver called _Ante' Up_. With nowhere to run, and reinforcements too far away, it was time to make their stand at the Procus sector.

_I never thought it would come down to this_, Jonathan Archer thought to himself as he sat in the captain's chair of the NX-01 _Enterprise_. His attention was directed intently on the situation screen mounted beside his chair as it showed him the current situation _Enterprise_ and the tactical wing she had been assigned to since the outbreak of the Romulan War four years ago.

"Talon's inbound," the voice of the ship's armory officer, Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed announced. "Reading target sweeps."

"Shields stable at seventy five percent," the ship's executive officer and science officer, T'Pol announced as she glanced at the shield status board. A technology that was literally given to them by the Andorian High Command shortly before the war broke out.

No matter how many battles the _Enterprise _encountered, Archer still could not shake that fact that he and the crew of the first warp five vessel that left earth to seek out new life and go where no man had gone before, were in fact fighting a war.

"Target the lead ship," Archer ordered coolly. "Starboard proximity defense set for blind fire."

"Aye," Malcolm answered as he worked intently to reconfigure the ship's proximity defenses to their desired firing mode. Basically with blind fire, the ports would fire their compressed particle bolts in the general direction of the inbound enemy. Once fired, the bolts would detonate into a blast that would cause the inbound Talons fast attack ships to veer away or get caught in the detonation.

"In range, sir," Malcolm stated as the announcement from his station in the form of a harmonic tone sounded.

"Fire!" Archer ordered as not to long after the order was given, Malcolm passed his hand over the fire controls.

Barrages of particle artillery rounds were fired from their weapon ports on the saucer section of the ship. The rounds streaked toward their enemy until they detonated. The detonation sent the three inbound Talons to break off.

"They're coming around for another strike," Malcolm reported as his attention was drawn to his scanner display or scope as he called it.

An alert sounded from T'Pol's station that grabbed Archer's attention. "The _Avenger _is becoming swarmed with the second Talon flight" T'Pol began, referencing one in three ships belonging to the Intrepid class. "They are suffering a warp core breach."

"They're abandoning ship," the ship's communication officer and senior linguist specialist, Lieutenant Hoshi Sato reported as she heard the panic in the voice of the _Avenger_'s commanding officer calling to abandon ship.

_Limited resistance, hell_! Archer cursed. Once again the Allies intelligence task force that was consisted of the best and brightest intelligence minds of all the Allies races, simply failed. They couldn't tell a Minshara class from a Kinshara.

"Breach is immanent," T'Pol ascertained.

_Damn_, Archer cursed.

"Escape pods jettisoning," T'Pol followed up.

"Spread formation, tango pattern three," Archer spoke to Hoshi who quickly relayed the transmission. "Order the _Jhurani _to fall back and retrieve those pods."

The deck of the ship shook as she and the surviving ships of Delta wing took the brunt of the shockwave from the fallen _Avenger_.

"Pods?" Archer asked.

A moment of time that seemed like an eternity was spent as T'Pol examined her scanners. Looking for the escape pods that may have survived. When she looked up, she simply shook her head.

"Damn!" Archer cursed aloud this time.

It was a typical tactic that the Romulans employed. Concentrate fire on the weakest ship and use it to their advantage.

"Blood thirsty bastards," Archer cursed the enemy aloud. Obviously not the same captain who stepped foot onto the deck of the _Enterprise_ so long ago. In fact, the entire crew had changed through the baptism of blood that the war spilled.

"Ensign," Archer called out to the young helmsman who's name was Adams. "ETA to the asteroid field?

"Two point five minutes," the helmsman responded not taking his attention away from his console.

"Warbirds are stepping up pursuit," Malcolm called as they advanced past the Talons to allow the interceptors to act as support to the larger ships.

The first time anyone on the Enterprise saw the Talon in combat, it was easily recognized from a previous encounter with a ship of that class that was far more advanced: the Marauder/Mimic ship. Fortunately these Talons did not have the holographic mimic technology.

"Warbirds in range."

"Brace for impact. All ships, aft weapons, fire at will."

Malcolm called up the aft proximity defense guns and the torpedo launcher targeted the lead war bird and fired a spread of artillery bursts.

On his scope he could see the war birds reacting to the inbound artillery as they detonated in front of their paths. With the close range of detonation, their scanners would be blind temporarily. That's when he fired two photonic torpedoes with their names on them. One of the torpedoes impacted dead center on one of the war birds. That war bird attempted to regain flight control and hit its wing mates' wing. The second weapon grazed the shields of another and continued on its flight. The flight ended with its fuel running out and the warhead self destructing.

On the view screen, Archer saw the asteroid belt that beckoned them. The Romulans still in hot pursuit.

_Come on_, Archer taunted. _Get us_.

"Sir, Talon's are retaking point."

_Afraid to get your hands dirty_?

"Ensign, take us in."

"Aye, sir." Adams answered back as he guided them into their destination. Asteroids of all sizes consisted of this belt. They ranged from micro rites, to ship killer and small planetoid sized.

"T'Pol, lower shields," Archer ordered. A command that was not second guessed by his science officer. Running shields in an asteroid field would slow their progress and impede their maneuverability. The field activated, its was difficult to compensate for flight control with the asteroids hitting the bubble that encompassed them. Without shields, they could slip through un interrupted. That was if they didn't encounter a ship killer in the process.

He hated to doubt the skills of Ensign Adams, but he would have felt more at ease with Lieutenant Travis Mayweather at the controls. Travis was a _boomer_. Being born on a warp freighter, he lived his life on the ECS _Horizon_. And the one thing _boomers _were exceptional at was making belt runs. Being in the Earth Cargo Service, on a vessel that a majority of the time was armed with low-grade weapons for defensive reasons, you had to adapt to your surroundings. ECS haulers would hide in asteroid belts to escape marauders and other alien pirates

But they were now traveling one quarter impulse speed as Archer watched the rocks pass by the perspective given off by the view screen as an alert sounded from T'Pol's station. "The Alpha Centauri cruiser _Invincible _is gone."

"Are the Romulans pursuing?"

"Affirmative," T'Pol's cold response came as Archer rose from his chair and leaned on the helm. "Are you ready Ensign?"

The nervous but determined helmsman managed to nod his head, followed by an "aye, aye sir" response.

"The Romulans are firing weapons," Malcolm announced as his scanners ready a volley impact into an asteroid and obliterate it. The asteroids were the only obstacle in the Romulan's way from getting a clear shot at Delta Wing that was pitch and yawing, performing rolls through the belt.

"Hoshi, transmit now!" Archer nodded towards the young communication officer who did not respond verbally. But the sound of a frequency transmitting was the only response he needed.

"Take us up," Archer placed a reassuring hand on Adam's shoulder.

With his left hand over the propulsion control panel, and his right hand around the flight yoke, for a split second Archer could feel the inertia dampeners take in affect.

"The Romulans are in the asteroid belt," T'Pol reported. "They are following."

On the view screen, Archer and the rest of his bridge crew could see the asteroids getting denser until all that was ahead was the starcape.

"Our last ship has reached open space."

Archer head snapped towards Malcolm's position. "Punch it!" Archer exclaimed with his hand curled into a fist. "Ensign, warp speed."

Malcolm passed his hand over the special ordinance controls and activated them with a grin.

"Now, Ensign," Archer ordered as he turned and walked back to his chair. Sitting at the moment they leaped to warp. Leaving the Romulan attackers behind in the asteroid that was a living atomic inferno. Strategically placed atomic warheads that were laid in that belt two months ago did their job.

The Romulan commanders found themselves dumbfounded as the first pair of atomics detonated. The detonation sent ripples through the field like dropping a pebble in a calm body of water.

What next followed was a spreading the inferno that the Romulans attempted to escape from. Out of six Talons, four were caught by the concussion wave and tossed into rocks. Two managed to outrun the wave and the inferno and emerge from the belt. The war birds were caught in both the concussion wave and the following fiery wrath.

_We won_, Jonathan Archer thought as he felt little comfort from the sight of the stars streaking past on the view screen. But the casualties weighed heavy on him.

_We win today_, but there's always tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One**

_Captain's starlog, June 12, 2160: Delta Wing is safely in Allied control space where our recent victory was a costly one. Four ships were lost during our hit and run mission to the border of Romulan space. For every victory, there are costly losses. This war with the Romulans has far exceeded the timelines first released by the UE administration. Nearly four years later, we have endured heavy enough casualties that the administration's support for this war has wavered. But as all hell breaks loose home side, we have another form of hell that we must contend with. We're fighting a seemingly never-ending war. With reinforcements coming in from Vulcan, Tellar and other Coalition states with their recent enlistment into the war, Starfleet Intel fears that irreversible damage may has already been done._

Upon entering Allied control free space, Delta Wing cruised through Jammer Wing's patrol zone. Jammer Wing was lead by _Enterprise's _sister ship, NX-03 _Challenger which was _Captain Juan Ramirez's command.

It would have been great to have another NX ship in Delta wing. With two NX Pathfinders, Delta wing would have been a force to be reckoned with. Unfortunately there was a limited amount of NX ships on the frontlines. _There should be three_, Archer believed intently. His thoughts going back to the events that led up to _Columbia_'s attack.

The _Columbia_ was running patrols in free space on the threshold of the No Fly Zone. Captain Erika Hernandez violated standing orders and took her command into the No Fly Zone to rescue a shipload of Romulan political refugees.

What came next was a trap. There were no political refugees. It was just a ploy to pull a Starfleet vessel closer to their territory and strike out in "self defense".

_Enterprise _had to race the clock to get to the Columbia before it drifted into Romulan occupied territory. Seemingly, that was what the Romulans were waiting for: a Starfleet vessel to cross their boundary. But Enterprise arrived in time to pull the survivors off and be forced to destroy their sister ship.

After watching their sister ship's destruction, Archer gave the order to "high tail" it as Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker the 3rd would say, back to free space and out of the NFZ.

In the beginning, there were 83 souls on _Columbia _that entered the NFZ. When _Enterprise _emerged from the NFZ with Romulan territory behind them, there were thirty-six.

On that day, the Romulans dipped their hands into blood. Blood that would never be forgotten.

Archer rose from his thoughts. Thoughts that ranged from giving the order to destroy the NX 02, and the final moments he shared with his lover Erika Hernandez as the wounds she suffered were beyond even the talents of Phlox.

"What's our ETA to the rendezvous point?" Archer asked with heavy fatigue in his voice.

"Five hours, fifteen minutes."

"Let's hope Trip and Travis faired better," Archer paused to regard the view screen and the ships of Delta wing that were visible. "You have the conn," he announced before the turbo lift hatch sealed behind him.

The turbo lift stopped at its station, and Archer emerged with no apparent destination. He wanted to walk the deck plates of his ship. The ship that has kept them all alive through so many trying times. Whether it was against the Suliban, the Xindi, or countless of other hostile engagements. She was still alive and still the guardian of the crew.

It pained him to see the current state the old girl was in. She had been through countless of engagements since that fateful day that ended with the destruction of her sister ship.

She wasn't the prestige starship she was when she left space dock. She still retained her beauty, but she was beaten. Her hull in some places was black from weapon impacts. Certain hull platings that were beyond the miracle of Trip found them being salvaged from other starships that littered the scrap yards. The _scrap yards, _which was a region in the rear portion of the theater that the Starfleet Corp of Engineers used to repair the damaged ships.

The corridors weren't as tip top shape as Archer strived for in the beginning. Access panels were missing and light panels flickered for the repair crew resources were concentrated o more vital areas.

It was a long and enduring war and morale was down. Archer could see the faces of his crew. They weren't the excited crew that they were in the beginning. Combat drills were constant as preparations were made for the next engagement. _There's always another engagement_.

As _Enterprise_ and the surviving vessels of Delta wing warped to the rendezvous point with the Starfleet vessel _Diligence_, one of a small handful of modified Apache class scout ships that acted as the eyes and ears of all Allied operations was anchored in a polar orbit around a moon in the system that was known as the Bassen Rift. She had her listening ears and watchful eyes open as an hour ago they had dropped off their package that was now on its way deep in Romulan territory.

These stealth ships were created to slip in and out of enemy territory. There hulls were not the silver and gray of other Starfleet vessels. These ships were abyssal black that allowed them to blend in. Sneak and peak were their expertise missions.

The warp nacelles were unlike any other nacelles mounted on Starfleet vessels. These nacelles did not have the particle coils that glowed bright blue. And the Bussard ram scoop collector would be shut down when on a stealth mission. You wouldn't be able to see one of these Apaches unless they light up their warp drive and leaped away.

The idea of a stealth ship had been on the drawing boards since before the Xindi attack on Earth. With Earth making contact with mostly aggressive aliens, Starfleet needed to have a means to protect Earth and her sister colonies.

These Apaches operated outside the standard chain of command. It was often rumored that they operated under Starfleet Intelligence and the secretary general of the United Earth charter himself.

To Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker the 3rd, being on the _Diligence_ made him think of the old World War II submarine that Trip Tucker's parents took him to go see in the Mobile Bay of Alabama.

Even at six, Trip couldn't imagine being cooped up in a tin can. The _Enterprise _compared to the _Diligence_ was a palace. A palace that both he and Travis Mayweather looked forward to return to after three weeks stationed on the stealth ship.

_If the _Diligence _was the submersible, than the Suliban cell ship was the diving bell_, Trip mused as he monitored the reactor ion drive and the cloak readouts of the alien ship.

Four months ago, Captain Archer was being transported back to _Enterprise _after a meeting at the forward Central Command station that orbited around the planet that was known as Sahara.

During the flight back, the _Ardent_ engaged a Romulan stealth bird. The engagement ended with both vessels crashing on the nearby M class planet.

Shortly before _Enterprise _discovered this to be the planet of the _Ardent_ crash down, Archer and a small group of MACOs boarded the downed enemy ship and downloaded as much information as they could before a Romulan salvage ship arrived.

Archer and the small handful of MACOs were all that survived. Everyone at the _Ardent_ crash site was killed by Romulan shock troops. Despite the ground engagement, the true face of the enemy was unknown. No survivors.

T'Pol and Hoshi were analyzing the downloaded database until a stealth ship; the _Foxtrot_ arrived to take the database to an undisclosed location.

Ever since the _Foxtrot_ warped away with the treasure that the entire Allied fleet would pay anything for, there was no further discussion about the database. From an article of Starfleet Intelligence, the salvaged database was compartmentalized, Gamma 4 priority.

A few weeks ago, the _Diligence_ arrived with orders to take the _Enterprise_'s helmsman Lieutenant Travis Mayweather, himself and the cell ship on a classified mission.

Archer didn't like handing his men over to Intel spooks. But United Earth Secretary General Thorpe himself signed the orders.

Since departing from the _Diligence_, the cell ship began tracing the flight path of that downed Romulan war bird, The trail led them to a system that according to the Romulan database, was designated Cheron.

To his side, Travis expertly guided the invisible ship farther in system. His was hand ready to pass over the panel to warp them out of the system in case by some unfortunate event the cloak blinked and gave off their position. An event that Trip had constantly reminded Travis that would not happen.

"I don't think anyone's been this deep before," Trip whispered as the first batch of information from the cell ship's passive scans of the system began to appear on the sensor display. Obviously trying to break the tension that was thicker than San Francisco fog in the early mornings.

"Me either," Travis replied softly as he glanced at his readouts when something dawned on him. "Why are we whispering?"

The question caught Trip by surprised as he shrugged his shoulder. "Seemed like the appropriate thing. You ever see the classic submersible war movies? Ship behind enemy lines, or a surface cruiser with depth charges written with their name on them."

"But there's no sound in space."

Trip angled his head at an angle. "The same principle. Okay, it seemed like a good idea."

The two men sat quiet, until the inevitable occurred and they bust out in laughter. The first time they've laughed since perhaps they left _Enterprise_.

"How's the cloak going?"

"Stable. Just like the past ten times you asked me," Trip replied. "I never took you to be a worry wart, Travis."

"A worry wart?" Travis echoed the phrase that was unfamiliar to him.

"Just something my grandmother Anna would tell me when I was a kid. I never figured it out either."

"Don't tell Lieutenant Command Reed, but the sooner we get this over with, the better I'll feel."

"You're telling me?" Trip answered as he pointed at his display that was showing the telemetry of this little region of space that was not so empty. "You see those weapon platforms?" Trip asked as he gestured to the network that surrounded the planet in their sector. "They'd crush us like a gnat on the windshield of a land cruiser."

"Charming," Travis said disturbingly as he maintained his alertness. Keeping watch over his station and glancing for brief seconds at the sensor display that Trip was monitoring. "How much longer?"

"I'd say about three more minutes since the last time you asked," Trip smiled as the hassling of the young space boomer, which resulted in Travis looking, embarrassed. "Don't worry Travis, I won't tell Hoshi."

With the mention of Hoshi, Travis wished he could bury his face on his console. The poker face that he tried to maintain furthered the reason why he shouldn't play the game. "Hoshi?" he said the name after a brief moment of silence. "What does Hoshi have to do with this?"

"Please Travis. It's a small boat. You see how long T'Pol and were secret?" Travis recalled the Enterprise's mission into the Delphic Expanse to put a stop at the Xindi's plans to destroy Earth. "Not that long, was it?" Trip finished his argument.

Hoshi and Travis were good friends since they left space dock on their vital mission to Qo'noS to return the Klingon that happened to find his way to Earth.

Naturally, the Klingon had vital information to the survival of the Empire. Such was the information that the Suliban would have killed to prevent from falling into the hands of the Klingon council.

Their relationship seemingly took a different turn upon their arrival to investigate Earth's frontier base Sahara's sightings of Romulan ships.

During their fly by encounter with a Romulan ship, Hoshi noticed that for the first time she had known him, she saw his hands tremble. So, the first opportunity she had, she carefully approached Travis about what he saw.

Naturally, he feared that is was the _Boomer's Syndrome_. The Syndrome was a neurological degeneration that some Boomers that were born in artificial gravity suffered. Naturally, being a boomer in the merchant fleet, you didn't have the resources to treat the illness.

Fortunately, hearing Hoshi's concerns, he went to go see Phlox who ran a full series of scans. Fortunately in the end, there were no psychological or neurological factors. It all came down to stress and anxiety of the situation.

Ever since that day, the shields that they maintained after being hurt repeatedly in relationships began to dissipate. They didn't know what their future's held. They only knew to enjoy today, for there may not be a tomorrow.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about, Travis. Hoshi's an attractive woman. And there's no rule against fraternizing," Trip glanced at the chronometer on his terminal. "Just ask me all about that."

"You know, that's why I like serving on my parent's freighter. Everyone kept out of everyone's business."

"Once again, I know all about it. Don't worry, one day the sour ships we fly at warp seven and be twice the size of our little pride and joy. And that will keep privacy kept for at least another minute or----."

Interrupting Trip's sentence was a tone coming from his terminal. This sound caused both men to jump in their seats. Then realizing it was the scanners, they both smiled at one another until what appeared on their screens.

A computer-enhanced image of an orbital station appeared that revealed this station was surrounded by the weapon defense network.

"Whatever this is, it sure is as hell important."

"Could it be their Central Command?" Travis asked as he returned his attention to his console.

"Could be we struck pay dirt, Travis," Trip smiled as the thoughts of the war over and returning home began to filter in. But he knew he couldn't get ahead of himself. "That's it. Take us back to the _Diligence_," Trip ordered as he watched Travis plot the course into the navigation system.

"With pleasure," Travis replied as he brought the cell ship around and began their journey to anywhere but here. "It's going to be good to be back home."

"You're not kidding," Trip said as he reached beneath his station and pulled out silver and black thermos with what he hoped was hot coffee. "It's been a long time since I had to hot bunk."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Two**

_Allied Central Command_

_Sahara System_

_12 Hours Later_

Hoshi Sato felt relieved that Trip and Travis were safely back on the ship. Not a minute had gone by that she didn't think of the two as they were reassigned along with the Cell ship to the _Diligence_.

_Thank God he's home, _she thought as the mess hall doors slid open and she found Travis with Lieutenant Commander Reed standing at the view ports.

Through the view ports, Allied Central Command could be seen with reinforcements arriving from the Coalition of Planets. The organization that Earth helped form. The organization that turned their backs on Earth, Andoria, Alpha Centauri and a small handful of smaller governments to combat the threat that the Romulans represented.

Travis sensed Hoshi walk up. Or was it the Risa perfume that she purchased the first _and _only time she had ever visited the paradise world. He greeted her with a soft smile. The smile said he had missed her and it was good to see her again.

Hoshi returned the smile that told him I'm glad your back.

"Look at them, Travis." Malcolm exclaimed. Not being able to keep his excitement under control. Sounding like a kid in a toy store was what he reminded her of.

At first, all Hoshi could see were a wing of Vulcan starships flanked by Tellarite cruisers. But off to the left of that group, two beautiful NX class Pathfinders anchored off the CenCom station.

"They're beautiful," Travis' mouth formed. He couldn't keep his eyes off the ships. He couldn't get over how clean and new they looked. These beauties sat un-touched by the sands of time and the strain of war.

"You men need help," Hoshi smiled.

"It's been a long war," Travis stated as Hoshi stood close to him.

"And with these beauties, the war may end sooner than we thought."

"I can't tell which one is which," Hoshi said as the ships were too far to read.

"The one on the left is the NX 04 _Discovery_. The other is the _Atlantis_." Malcolm's excitement began to disperse. "Where were they four years ago?"

"Where were the Vulcan and Tellarites?" Travis asked. "I still can't fathom they thought they could avoid this war this long."

"Miracles come in many shapes," Hoshi said softly. Knowing the events that led the Coalition out here were not miracles but unfortunate events. "I know it sounds harsh after six hundred people were killed. But if that Romulan war bird didn't make its attack on those outposts--"

"The Coalition never would have entered this war."

Malcolm's words settled in as Travis raised his water bottle in his hands and took a swig of the grade-A recycled water. "You really don't truly see who your friends are unless you come up to a fight, and you see who sticks around."

"Who would have thought, the Andorians?" Reed asked as he glanced away from the new NX starships and looked over at his friends. "Hell, they even shared their technology with us."

Shortly after Andoria played a role in defeating the Xindi and saving Earth, the relations between Earth and the frigid ice world began to strengthen. Strengthen to levels that far surpassed that which existed with the Vulcans.

In the 88 years since man's first contact with Vulcans, the aliens did nothing to help enhance their technology other than directing them into the right direction. Ensuring their evolution _would not be compromised_ was the official statements when question were asked why they didn't help them with their warp experiments.

Nine years ago, Enterprise made first contact with the Andorians at the Vulcan outpost P'Jem. No one was sure what to make of the blue skin aliens with antennae. But a strong relationship was developed. Strong enough that after their encounter with the Romulan mimic/marauder ship, Commander Shran was stationed temporarily to _Enterprise_

Shran, having lost his ship against the drone ship, was assigned to show the High Guard of his continued worth. And to watch the humans. To see if they would ever turn the technology they would give the humans, against their benefactors.

Having accomplished his mission in the four months he was on ship, the Andorians decided to aid Starfleet in the building of their forces. Giving them shield technology. No longer would they have to rely on hull plating to protect them from the blunt of a enemy's barrage.

They even assisted them in their warp development. Now, more than half the Starfleet was capable of running warp 5. Even more were running warp 6.

"And with the boost they've given us, the word is we'll be running warp seven in a few years." That would be a view to see. And Travis would no doubt love to be the pilot to first make warp seven.

"May be things could get back to normal," Hoshi's statement was received by nods from the men. "I miss not being able to translate alien languages."

Malcolm and Travis both shared smiles, as Hoshi grew offensive. "What?" She asked as she punched Travis softly in his shoulder.

"Now who needs help?"

The chuckles came to an end as Hoshi moved off. Throwing "Boys," over her shoulder as she left.

As Hoshi left the mess hall, the two men's attention returned to the two beauties that were anchored off their starboard bow.

"I wonder if their helmsmen are any good." Travis asked. "They probably drafted a boomer," he said with a little tone of anger.

Since the outbreak of the war, the United Earth Charter enabled an intersystem draft. Travis understood the need for good people to serve on the frontlines, but he didn't believe in pulling families apart that did not want to partake.

"I wonder who they've been able to find to run tactical since all the experienced vets have been out here on the frontlines."

"Probably another _draftee_'," Travis responded coldly.

"I'm like you, Travis," Malcolm announced as he placed his hand on his crewmate and friend's shoulder. Malcolm understood his dislike for the draft. Knowing that his family's engineer on the ECS _Horizon_, Juan Castille was drafted.

When an Atlas class cruiser approached the _Horizon_ two years ago during a cargo run to the Vega Colony, the captain of the hauler and Travis' brother: Paul, were served with official papers stating that Juan was being drafted into Starfleet.

When Paul refused, coming short of aiming his weapons at the Atlas cruiser, the Starfleet captain reminded him of the contract that his father signed when commissioning the _Horizon_ into the Earth Cargo Service.

In the time of war, the ship, and all of its crew would fall under the jurisdiction of Starfleet. If Paul wanted to fight it, than his cargo license would be revoked. They would be on their own on the frontier.

Paul came up to the decision that they didn't need a contractual agreement to survive on the frontier. But Juan stepped forward, and went with the Atlas.

Juan's first tour out of training saw his Lancer class interceptor under attacked by a Romulan surprise attack. All hands were lost.

When Travis found out from his brother about the entire debacle, he didn't recognize the Starfleet that he signed up to enforce and explore the frontiers.

Starfleet was becoming desperate.

I never thought that I would see in my day Earth enforcing a draft," Reed's statement brought Travis out of his painful memories. "The last draft was during the aftermath of World War III."

"I never thought I'd see a war in my time. I thought we left that behind us after we nearly killed each other off."

"We may have moved forward from war," Malcolm said as he reached for the table next to them and picked up the two mugs of teat. "But it's inevitable for two cultures to clash."

Travis accepted the mug and sipped the hot contents. "What are you going to do after the war, Malcolm?"

Malcolm finished his sip and with surprise, lowered the mug to his side. "You know, I really haven't thought about it. I

Just take it one light year at a time. You?"

"Order a thick cheese burger," Travis smiled. "Eating standard meal rations for four years makes you really appreciate what you don't have anymore."

"Scuttlebutt is this next year will be vital in our war efforts."

Travis shook his head. Having enough of the tea he placed it back on the table. "Attack, retreat, attack, retreat. I don't see how much longer continuing to have to take the defensive is going to get us anywhere."

"The best offensive is a good defensive," Malcolm raised his glass.

Travis nodded, guessing Malcolm's saying was right. But he didn't feel he was right. All he knew was on the horizon, there was another battle waiting for them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three**

Jonathan Archer never enjoyed stepping foot on the Central Command station. A station that orbited around the same world as their lost frontier base, Sahara Orbital was located before the beginning of the war.

After _Enterprise _warped out of the NFZ with the Columbia survivors, they received a distress call that the orbital facility was under attack by a Romulan attack force.

Archer came to the decision that there was nothing else they could do, but divert their course to Sahara. Being the only Starfleet vessel in the region, there would be little more to do than rescue survivors.

To him, it was odd being in a system that once knew nothing but peace. The Saharans furthered man's knowledge. And in the process, many lost their lives.

Pacing back and forth, all these memories bombarded him at once. At first he'd think about see the Columbia adrift. He'd recall ordering Malcolm to destroy the ship as Romulan forces were inbound. He'd think about hearing the distress call from Sahara. And how he spent the long flight to Sahara, sitting by Erika Hernandez's side as she faded away.

The dark gray corridor he currently paced had a bench that he had given up long ago. To his right at the end of the corridor, stood a MACO and an Andorian Elite at attention. On the other side of the hatch they guarded, were the minds of the entire war effort.

"If you keep walking like that," a voice being him called. "You're going to wear the deck plating off, Pink Skin."

Archer grinned at the sound of his old friend's voice. Andorian High Guard officer Thy'lek Shran approached with his hand extended to grasp Archer's.

"Good to see you again, old friend," Archer greeted as he glanced at the Andorian's collar. "Colonel is it now?"

Shran gestured at the ranks with his right hand. "Does it not, though?" he smiled as he glanced at Archer's rank. "Still a captain?"

Archer faked an offended glance then smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Shran laughed and slapped Archer's shoulder. The gesture was a little too hard from Archer's reaction as they approached the bench.

"It's all yours," Archer gestured at the empty bench. "I gave it up two hours ago."

"I hear you had an engagement at Dragoon."

"That's putting it lightly," Archer responded as he leaned against the bulkhead. "How'd the recruiting job go?"

Shran waved his hand, seemingly at the thought of his last mission. "A fruitless endeavor. My position should have been on the frontlines, not in safe space trying to gather support."

Archer certainly knew how he would have felt if he and Enterprise were taken off the frontlines. God forbid, if he was taken off the frontlines and _Enterprise_ remained in the fight.

"Recruiting is a job for sales and diplomats. Not a warrior."

"I'll be drinking to that," Archer responded as he glanced down at the corridor for the countless time in two hours. Was he really expecting the hatch to open? You saw the reinforcements on your way in?"

"I did. It's so like Vulcans. Pacifists until they're own are threatened. And Tellarites, riding in to save the day at the end."

Before Archer could speak the words forming from his mind, the sound of the hatch swishing open sounded. His heart jumped a couple of beats. _You're getting old. Old Man_. Stepping out was a young Lieutenant. His baby-faced appearance made Archer think about how he appeared when he graduated from Officer Training School.

"Captain Archer," The un-named lieutenant announced. "They are ready to see you now."

Suddenly, Archer felt as if he was walking down the corridor to his own execution.

"Good luck, pink skin."

Archer looked as Shran rose from the bench.

"Thanks," Archer nodded as he followed the lieutenant passed the guards and into the War Room for the entire frontlines.

Eerie silence met Archer and the Lieutenant at the hatch as the flag officers of the Allied Fleet along with their counterparts from the Coalition were gathered around a long rectangular situation table similar to the one in the situation room on _Enterprise_'s.

He immediately recognized Admiral Lefcourt, the flag officer of Starfleet. To either side, were General Ellison of the Alpha Centauri Colonial Guard and General Th'rav of the Andorian High Guard.

Opposite of these three men, was Admiral V'sal of the Vulcan Space Force and Colonel Talurth of the Tellarite Defense Force.

The rectangular compartment had banks of plasma screens and six terminals manned by specialists. One terminal that was now being manned by the Lieutenant that received him.

"Captain Archer," Lefcourt greeted as he looked up from his pad, gesturing to the empty spot around the situation table. "Please come in."

"Gentlemen," Archer greeted to the Flag brass as he took his place, standing at attention.

"As you were, Captain," Lefcourt announced. "That little ship of yours sure as hell came in handy."

"Thank you, sir."

"Impressive indeed," General Ellison complimented. "Now that we have had the opportunity to reinforce the data that you retrieved from that downed Romulan war bird, Allied Command has sanctioned Operation Foothold."

On the wall screen mounted on the bulkhead behind Lefcourt and his entourage, the display matched the contents that were currently on the display built into the situation table. The war zone.

"Foothold?" Archer inquired.

"It's a gutsy plan," Ellison said to Lefcourt who nodded.

"It will no longer postpone the inevitable," Andorian General Th'rav announced." We win, or we die. Either way, it is an honorable move. Certainly not a move the Romulans would expect," the Andorian spat the term Romulan. Literally.

"I will have to further consult with my government before Tellarite forces are used in this operation," the timid words came from Talurth.

Th'rav slammed his fist on the table and stared sharply in the Tellarite's eyes. "You Tellarite slug. You have no heart for blood."

"Watch your tongue, you blue skinned bug."

"Bug!" the Andorian's exclamation echoed in the compartment. Not to Archer's ears. "Why would your government send an inexperienced colonel such as yourself?"

Archer tuned the Tellarite's reprisal out as he looked at Lefcourt's expression that was building up to a meltdown. "Enough!"

The command caught both the General and Colonel by surprise as they looked at the Starfleet flag officer. The frenzy that was visible remained inside them all.

Lefcourt moved away from his place at the briefing table and began making a circuit around it. "If this is how we're going to be acting, we may as well just right this war off. Because the Romulans won't be fast enough to kill us before we do it ourselves."

"I concur," the Vulcan supreme commander nodded in agreement. "But my observation remains that this strategy will only leave a skeleton security force on the border."

Silence echoed in the compartment as V'sal entered a command string into the panel on the table before him. The displays zoomed in on the borderlines.

"If we fail, the window of opportunity is open for the Romulans to make another strike in the Alpha Quadrant."

Lefcourt and everyone else at Allied Command knew the Vulcan's rationality was possible.

"As we only have a skeleton security force guarding our territories. If we fail, it will prove catastrophic," the Vulcan concluded with a raised eyebrow.

"Who wants to live forever?" The Alpha Centauri general asked as he turned his attention to Lefcourt. "You have the Alpha Centauri Colonial government's support, Admiral."

The Tellarite's chuckle that came shortly after Ellison's vow caught everyone's attention. "You give your government's support even before consulting them. Such a wise move."

"My government believes in my voice, Colonel," Ellison paused for his statement to take affect. "Does yours?"

Expecting a reprisal that the universe for knew Tellarites, Archer was surprised to see him stand as the words formed. "If not, I would not be here."

The room was in silence as Archer decided it was time to find out why he was privy to the chaos behind the command structure that was fighting the war.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I mean not to speak out of line, but Foothold?"

Two hours after first entering the war room for his briefing on Operation Foothold, Jonathan Archer walked the corridor of Central Command in the officer country. Searching for a drink.

V'sal was right in his logical conclusions. The entire operation would leave a skeleton force on the border. And an even thinned out skeleton force protecting everyone's home system.

If the smallest thing went wrong, it would start a chair reaction that would spin out of control. Archer's worst fear was of the Romulans knifing through a weakened forward line and plowing through the border with nothing to stop them from attacking each Coalition and Allied member's home world.

Archer pulled that thought out of his mind as he rounded the corridor and ahead of him were the double doors that led to the officer's lounge.

Music played loudly and glasses were raised in honor of fallen comrades. The lounge was decorated with picture frames of the lost crews. Some officers danced, while other sat at their tables in deep contemplation. Others played darts of which the bull's-eye was silhouettes of Romulan ships.

It was obvious to Archer, that everyone in the compartment were oblivious of the coming plans. Plans that were hoped would end the war once and for all.

_A costly plan_, Archer concluded as he made his way to the bar. A seventy five percent casualty rate was predicted by the think thanks back home. _But, what war doesn't take sacrifice_, he said as he made way to the bar. Looking at the temporary refuge away from the war. Seeing the jokes that were being made, and laughter fill his ears. _This_ was what it was all worth fighting for. _Life_.

"Brandy," Archer ordered as reached the bar and took a small grab of peanuts on the bar counter. The bartender went off to make the drink as he glanced around to see Captain Juan Ramirez approach with two new arrivals. His friends were in fact the captains of the rest of the NX fleet.

"Johnny," Ramirez greeted his old Officer Training School roommate. "May I present Captain Tiberius Chase and William Hunt.

"It's an honor," Archer began the pleasantries.

"Likewise captain," Hunt responded, who wore the patch of the NX-05 Atlantis.

"I'm just glad you didn't win the war without us," Chase of the NX O4 Discovery shook Archer's hand.

Archer nodded at Chase's comment as he took his drink and took a sip. Like every other fresh soldier, Chase and Hunt were spit, polished and ready to fight.

Compared to Archer, Ramirez and most of the officers in the lounge who were weary from the war and ready for the hostilities to end.

"The captain's were just telling me they're running at warp 6," Ramirez said as he approached the bar and ordered another drink.

Archer nodded at the statement as he took a longer sip this time.

"We got here in record time," Hunt bragged. A record that was made by _Enterprise _when she first visited Sahara Orbital to analyze the situation at the edge of unexplored space.

"I told them to expect our chiefs to be knocking down their hatches," Ramirez smiled as he took a sip of his fresh drink.

"No doubt," Archer's tone was that of someone spoiling a party. He didn't want to be in the lounge, but he needed a drink after he found out what was ahead for them all.

Archer stood from his stool and raised his glass. "It's just real good to have you out here."

Ramirez, Hunt and Bishop all raised their glasses.

"To the poor Romy bastards who stand in our way," Chase toasted with a wide smile.

Archer and Ramirez acknowledged the toast and raised their glasses not so enthused as Bishop and Hunt. _They think they can win this war on their own_, Archer thought as he sipped his brandy. _I hope their right_.

He had heard a lot about the infamous duo that was Chase and Hunt and planned to buy the two captains a round of drinks. After all it was the least that he could do to show his gratitude for what they managed to accomplish. It was after all the _Discovery_ and _Atlantis_ that had helped the Coalition hunt down the Romulan bird of prey that was attacking Coalition assets. Thus entering the Coalition into the fray.

History repeats, Archer thought as hi mind went back to their mission to Babel that resulted in uncovering the a Romulan plot to throw the quadrant into war by framing its denizens in starting a war.

If it wasn't for _Enterprise_ organizing the effort and keeping the Alpha Quadrant out of a war with one another, the Romulans could very well had swiftly moved in and mopped the quadrant up with ease.

God love the universe, Archer thought as he took another gulp of his drink and watched as Chase and Hunt were making the rounds around the club chatting up with the ladies.

Hot shots, Archer thought as he ordered another drink. But it would be the hot shots that would win this war. Fresh from the security of home, now out here in the wilderness. Ready to win the war single handedly.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Four

Commander T'Pol observed the transporter tech as the young crewman activated the console. The Vulcan directed her attention to the transporter alcove as the sound of the transporter energizing sounded.

"Trip" Tucker materialized on the alcove platform before her. The man who would be the chief engineer of the _Enterprise_ and her lover.

The affair began shortly after _Enterprise_ entered the Delphic Expanse in search of those responsible for the sneak attack on Earth. What began as innocent neuro pressure treatments to help aid Trip with the stress of the loss of his sister in Florida in the Xindi attack slowly began to deepen into a physical relationship.

This relationship that developed, found Trip bound to her physically. Explaining the images he saw of her when he temporarily left _Enterprise_ to serve on the now late _Columbia_. This same bond was also what saved _Enterprise _when Trip found himself unaffected by the Orion slave girls' pheromones as they attempted to take over the ship.

"How was the tour?" T'Pol inquired as Trip stepped off the platform. The significant smile on his face informed her that it was eventful.

"Amazing. It was absolutely amazing," Trip replied as they stepped into the passageway. "They've totally re-worked the warp core. Far more powerful than ours and _Atlantis_' put together."

Trip and T'Pol stepped to either side of the corridor, as one of his diagnostic techs passed through with a cart of diagnostic equipment. No doubt heading for the EPS junction on E deck that was still fluctuating.

"They have an advanced model of plasma flow injectors that I've only dreamed of. That pushes them to warp five point nine. And from what the engineering crew says, they've made it to warp six."

"Fascinating," was T'Pol's only response as they reached the turbo lift station and waited for the next available lift in a beat of silence.

"How has your day been?" Trip asked breaking the silence.

"Un interesting," she said as the lift door slid open and Trip gestured for her to enter first.

"Bridge," Trip announced as the door slid shut.

"C Deck," T'Pol added onto their destinations.

"A little business to attend to?" Trip smiled as C deck was the location of the cabin they shared together.

T'Pol dismissed his accusation with a arched eye brow. "You have a visitor."

"Really?" Trip couldn't figure out who it could be.

"Thomas," her words echoed in the silent lift as Trip could feel the sensation of the car stopping to apparently his destination.

"When did he come onboard?"

"Shortly after you returned from _Discovery_."

"Thanks," Trip said as he stepped off the lift to their cabin.

Of all the things he wanted in his life, being an engineer and a father were the most important. Not necessarily in that order. So when Trip found out during that first layover at Sahara Orbital, that a former flame of his before he left for Officer Training School had bore him a child, he was shocked and happy.

Lisa had went on to leave Earth behind, and to become the frontier base governor's personal assistant. Not only did she have to work for Governor Braxton whom he had heard was difficult to work with, she also had to raise a son.

When he was requested to check out a EPS regulator problem the reactor crew were having, Enterprise was forced to break orbit to follow a Romulan vessel passing through the area. To his surprise, he found Lisa in the most unusual places on Earth's farthest outpost.

After the problem was diagnosed, he was invited to dinner with Lisa and Thomas. Off course, he figured Thomas was her boyfriend or husband. He never expected Thomas to be his son.

At the time, Thomas was thirteen years old. He was a teenager who found himself growing up at the edge of nowhere. No place to run and play sports. And a small amount a girls to choose to court.

It was only natural, that when he told T'Pol he had a son, she was skeptical. It was probably her protective instinct kicking in. Or was it jealously?

Over dinner the night _Enterprise_ returned to Sahara after trailing the Romulan war bird without an exchange of words of weapons, he made it very clear that T'Pol was the one he wanted to be with. Even though he and Lisa had a history, the only thing that connected them to one another was Thomas.

Thomas was a young boy who always dreamed of leaving Sahara Orbital and seeing the universe from the view screen of a starship. Not seeing one side of the universe in a space station that went nowhere other than another orbit around a planet.

It was a dream that came true from unfortunate events.

A little over a year after the _Enterprise_'s mission to Sahara, the _Columbia_ was attacked by the Romulans. When Enterprise rescued all of the survivors, they picked up a distress signal coming from Sahara Orbital.

As soon as Trip found out what happened, his thoughts immediately were directed to his son and the mother of his child. The Romulans retaliated from _Enterprise_'s so-called "incursion" into Romulan _annexed_ territory, by attacking Sahara.

Sahara Orbital was brutally attacked. When they arrived, there was only a small portion of the structure that remained. The Romulans obviously wanted to make a statement than to destroy the station.

The station wasn't the only thing that was hit. The planet, in which the frontier base orbited, New Sahara, was attacked with atomic-grade weapons. The planet was nuked, as they would say back in the 20th and 21st centuries. Nuclear fallout had begun.

For two weeks, _Enterprise_ and her sister ship _Challenger_, searched the planet for any survivors. Those that they found didn't survive very long as the radiation had taken its toll.

Ashamedly, Trip's concern when they returned to Sahara Orbital to see it drifting closer to a lifeless planet, was were they alright? Had they survived by some miracle?

During the attack, her lover who was a shuttle pilot was rounding up Thomas and his mother. He was going to take as many survivors from the station he could down planet side.

Thomas had described the entire chain of events with clarity and a lack of any emotions in his voice when he was rescued by Trip himself.

_We we're running down the corridor, to the airlock. When out the view port, weapons hit the shuttle. Bulkheads were closed. A beam fell from the ceiling, pinning mom down. I couldn't save her. I wanted to, but I couldn't._

Trip consoled his son after he told him the heart-breaking tale as tears began to stream down Thomas' cheeks.

_I will make them pay. I will make them hurt for taking mom away from me_.

Trip feared the inevitable. And the inevitable did indeed come true.

Thomas had no other place to go, so Trip sent him back to Earth to live with his parents. And then one day, he received a transmission from his father telling him that Thomas was enlisting into Starfleet.

The kid was sixteen by then, and of legal age to enlist. There was nothing he could do. Trip's father always taught him that everyone has to walk his or her own path. If this was to be Thomas's path, than there was nothing he could do to change it.

He pressed the keypad that opened the door to his shared cabin, and found Thomas standing at his desk. Admiring the many pictures he had accumulated.

"Hello, Trip," Thomas Bryce greeted as he wore the uniform of the Alpha Centauri Colonial Guard. A Colonial Guard uniform and not a Starfleet uniform. This was due to the fact that Thomas didn't pass the psychiatric evaluations needed to enlist into Starfleet.

Trip always wondered if Thomas thought he had something to do with him being washed out of Starfleet. In the beginning, the thought had crossed his mind. The boy lost his mother, and deserved much more than to fight this god-forsaken war at the edge of nowhere.

After being washed out, the only other choice was to enlist in Earth's sister colony's military force. And he made it. From what he heard from the _Sovereign_'s commanding officer, a former Starfleet captain named Parker, Thomas was a very bright officer with an even nova brighter future in the Alpha Centauri Colonial Guard.

The only favor he had ever cashed in was to have periodic updates from his former room mate at Officer Training School.

"How have you been, Thomas?" Trip asked as he shook the grown man's hand. This was obviously not the same boy he first met what seemed like an decades ago.

"Well," Thomas replied. A wall had formed between them ever since Thomas washed out. No doubt believing Trip, his mother's friend was up to it.

"I didn't know you were patrolled to this sector," Trip broke the deafening silence and stepped to the sideboard to pour them both a glass of water.

"We were stationed off Kelvis when were ordered here," Thomas responded as he accepted the glass of cold water. "Everyone seems too had been ordered here."

"That's what it looks like," Trip nodded as he took a sip of his water. Wishing that it were something stronger. He hated that there was a rift between them. But, Thomas never knew he was his father. What would the good do in telling him he had a father that didn't know him? As tempting as it was, Trip let the truth fly away like a bird soaring through the sky.

Thomas may be his blood, but he doubted likely that he would ever be his son. In the beginning he had hoped of some kind of relationship. But as the years came and went, and the war continued, that seemed unlikely.

_Why tell him he has a father that may die in a damned war_? _It'll just give him the chance to loose someone else_.

"Rumor is, the brass has something planned," Thomas said as he finished his glass and sat it down.

"Where's my manners," Trip said as he gestured for a chair. "Take a load off."

"Thanks," Thomas nodded and sat with his back erect. Definitely not the same boy who'd sit slumped over at the diner table. Even though the three of them shared only one dinner together.

That dinner on Sahara Orbital, allowed Trip to peer though the looking glass into a reality was Trip was a father. He wondered if he and T'Pol would ever have a child. A child not brought into the universe to be a pawn for a xeno-phobic radical group's agenda.

"What brings you over here, Thomas," Trip asked cutting through the deafening silence.

Thomas sat silent as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a data chip.

"What's that?" Trip's curiosity asked.

"I didn't tell you the entire truth, Trip," Thomas paused trying to gather his words.

"What do you mean?" The curiosity continued to increase.

"About what happened on Sahara." Trip sat his glass down, and sat at the edge of his chair at his and T'Pol's shared work terminal. Obviously the tidiness came from T'Pol and not Trip's organization skills.

"Shortly before mom died, she handed me this chip." The said chip was being flipped through Thomas's fingers. "Before she died, she said to pen it when I was ready. And it took me up to last week to open it.

"What was on it?"

"The truth, Trip. You're my father."

Trip's world began to slowly spin at a quick speed. Or was the _Enterprise_ engaged in an evasive maneuver with the gravity generator off line?

"I don't know what to say," Trip managed to say. There was too much to say, and he didn't know where to start. This was where being a father would kick in.

"I kind of always knew, there was something about you," Thomas found the words to break the once again silence. "I never could explain it."

"I knew as soon as you walked into your mo--- the cabin, that you were my spawn," Trip smiled.

"I was a handful," Thomas smiled in return.

"I was a rebel when I was that age. Hair bleached blue, ear rings, the whole nine yards."

"Blue?" Thomas said with out the ability to picture Trip with blue hair.

"I was a wild one," Trip reassured his son. _His_ son.

"Like father like son," Thomas nodded.

"I know that I haven't always been there for you, Thomas."

"For the first thirteen years, you never knew I existed."

"Good point," Trip concluded. "But I wished I knew. I could have been giving you Christmas presents and giving you fatherly advice on girls and _stuff_."

"Mom managed pretty well in that area," a smile formed with the mention of his mother. May be this was how he was letting go of what happened to Lisa, and moving on.

_Where's Phlox and Chef when I need him_? Trip asked himself. It seemed like when ever anyone on the ship needed advice; they either went to the Doc and Chef.

A notice sounded from Thomas' communicator. "Times up," Thomas announced as he stood.

"Never seems to be enough time, these days," Trip said as he grabbed the glasses and returned them to the sideboard while Thomas stepped to the hatch as it slid open.

"Son," Trip called out as he moved to his Chester drawers and reached in to pull something out.

"What's that?" Thomas asked as Trip handed it to him with his palm open. When he examined the object, he saw that it was a medal.

"The Nova Cluster for Valor," Trip announced as Thomas' held the gold delta shaped object. "I received it when we came back from the Expanse mission."

"You're----you're not----"

Trip nodded, "I want you to have it."

"I can't. You earned it," Thomas tried to return it.

Trip placed his hand over the opened palm with the medal. "I haven't always been there for you, but this is a little piece of me you can take with you."

Emotions began to tug at Thomas. His instinct was to embrace the man that happened to be his father. But he had to fight the emotion back. He was a soldier.

"Did you have me washed out, Trip?" Thomas asked the question that he had never asked brought him to ask.

Trip looked deep into his son's eyes with sincerity, "No."

Thomas returned the connection and stood silent for a moment until finally saying the words he always believed, "I know you didn't."

Thomas' smile was returned by Trip as he was the first to break the wall down as he wrapped his arms around his son. The first time Thomas had ever felt the warm embrace from the father he always knew existed. Somewhere.

The embrace was disconnected, as Thomas held the medal tight in his palm. "I have to go," he said as he stepped into the corridor.

Trip followed him into the corridor. "Thomas," he called. Thomas turned around to see his father as he said, "be careful out there."

Thomas nodded with a smile. "You too. Give T'Pol my love."

Trip nodded as he felt a weight lifted off his shoulder as he watched _his_ son walked down the corridor until he rounded the corner and was out of sight.

_Be careful, son, _he thoughtWishing he knew the way to tell the son he missed growing up that he loved him


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Five**

The officer's lounge on CenCom known as the _Nova Tavern _was kicking into high gear with Ramirez and Archer sitting at the bar, glancing over at the new captains of their sister ships.

"_I'm just glad you didn't win the war without us_," Ramirez scoffed as he downed his shot of Lygerian _Purity_. Certainly cleaned out your system, he had said the first time he tried the alien concoctions. "We're we ever that smug when we were that young?"

Archer spun his glass on the bar in between nursing the contents. "May be. I don't remember."

Archer looked over as he realized that Tiberius Chase was certainly a hit with the women in the club. he had seen the young captain go from table to table attracting them. But what he found interesting that did not make it into any reports was his tale of how he and Hunt managed to hunt down the bird of prey.

Off course it could had been a tall tale to win the ladies into their beds. After all, this was war and you had to enjoy life and its perks when you could. But what sparked his interest was Chase's mention of how the Romulan seemingly was using Starfleet tactics.

"That's how we were able to jump him and send him straight to hell," Chase exclaimed as he raised his glass. "To the enemy who gave us one hell of a pursuit."

The gathered patrons raised their glasses when Archer realized that nearly the entire club had drifted over to the new hot shot NX captains.

Ramirez placed his hand on Archer's shoulder that pulled his attention away from their fellow NX captains. He certainly felt old.

"So, who'd your meeting go with our fearless leaders?" asked Ramirez. "Scuttlebutt has it our brilliant leaders have come up with a plan."

Archer didn't respond immediately as he took the take to finish the last two sips of his ale in one long gulp. "You know the briefing's at 0600 in the morning."

"Oh, come on. You can't give me a heads up?"

Glancing at the wall chronometer seeing that it read 2200 hours Sol Standard Time, he realized for the first time that it was late. Archer finishes the last of his drink and motions for the barkeep. "Drink up while you can. It's getting late."

"That great uh?" Ramirez said as the last contents of his drink as it burned down his throat and into his stomach. _That's going to feel good in the morning_.

Saying his farewells to Ramirez, Archer began his long journey with a buzzing head to the transporter room. Where a bottle of O2 pills were waiting by his bedside with his name on them.

All Archer wanted to do was lay down and close his eyes and sleep this night hopefully in peace. But as he rounded the corner, he nearly ran into Admiral V'Sal.

"Late evening, Captain?"

"Just headed back. And you?"

"I am as well," the Vulcan replied as they both proceeded down the corridor with no small talk. "Perhaps I may be able to ask you a query," V'Sal said in a way that through Archer's buzzing murky head couldn't tell if it was a assumption or a question.

But with Vulcans it was hard to tell.

The two men entered a lift as Archer stood, tempted to brace himself against the bulkhead of the car. Instead, he nodded and remained standing un-aided.

"The _Ardent'_s crash down on the planet in the Piran system," V'Sal articulated as they traveled to the fifteenth deck that held the shuttle bay facilities. "In your after action report, you reported boarding a Romulan vessel we've classified as a Scepter war bird."

_And_? Archer thought. _Are you going to read me every details of the report_? That was which the question he wanted to ask. And if he didn't have enough ounce of self-control from the buzz in his head, it would have been voiced.

"You reported you saw no signs of the Romulan crew," the question continued with V'Sal's back turned towards him. The Vulcan's eyes never left the level indicator display.

"That was what I said in my report," Archer blankly stared at the sealed door as the indicator read they were passing through the tenth deck.

"How was that possible?" V'Sal asked as for the first time since entering the lift, he turned around to face Archer. Who was obvious trying to hide his tension and annoyance.

"Upon entering through a breach in the hull, our scanners indicated signs of a coolant leak," Archer announced while his mind went back to the event. "Apparently the engineering crews were not fast enough to seal off engineering before the coolant spread through the ship."

"Even if that was the case," V'Sal said as he folded his hands behind his back. "There would had been time to seal off the aft compartments from the rest of the ship."

"Those compartments that didn't suffer breaches from the _Ardent_'s assault. May be, there were events happening all at once. I don't know."

V'Sal hesitated from continuing the questioning as the lift settled into its station on deck fifteen and the doors slid open. "Are you certain there were no survivors?"

Archer made one step closer to the open door, which brought him to stand next to V'Sal. "Are you suggesting I made an error in my report?" _Are you calling me a liar_?

"I am only making inquiries on the evidence that is available."

"Then have a good night, Admiral," Archer said and traversed the deck to shuttle bay. Leaving the Vulcan alone in the lift car with his thoughts.

Archer rounded the corner and the hatch to the shuttle bay that held the _Phoenix_ at the end of the corridor. He had always knew that there would be further questions in regard to Archer and the MACOs from the _Ardent _boarding the downed Romulan vessel.

He knew that he would keep the secret as long as he could from coming out of the true events that happened on that fateful day.

When the _Ardent_ engaged the Romulan war bird and found themselves caught in the gravity well of the un-named world, Archer knew it was miracle that any of them survived.

Out of a crew of forty, only twenty survived. And one of the crew that didn't make it was the _Ardent_'s commanding officer, Commander Brown. This event left an un-experienced first officer who seemed to have an ego to prove in charge of the crew.

It took a lot from Archer not to assume control of the situation. But if he believed for an instant that Lieutenant Commander Hollis wasn't up to the job, he would have relieved him of command.

With nothing to do, Archer took a MACO with him to the highest point of the area to fire a shoulder mounted sub orbital distress beacon. And once they reached the highest peak, they saw a smoke trail rising from the distance.

The Romulan ship survived re-entry. Archer took four of the seven surviving MACOs, and began their full day hike to investigate what remained of the enemy ship.

Once they emerged through the dense forest, there the war bird was. Archer had never seen an enemy ship up close. Actually, no one ever had. Or at least, lived to tell the tale.

The search party entered through one of the breached compartments, and found evidence of a warp reactor coolant leak. If there were anyone that survived the attack in orbit, the warp reactor coolant would had killed those that didn't make it behind sealed bulkheads.

Archer had seen what the coolant did when it came into contact with organic matter. It was on his first tour out of OTS on the _Victory_. Archer was an ensign who was sent from the bridge to acquire a status report. Archer entered the compartment in a personal protective suit. Looking around he saw that no one else were wearing theirs as safety regulations stated there was a chance of the coolant leak to re-initiate if the pressure had not equalized fully and .

The chief engineer chided young Ensign Archer. He had heard from the crew that if the Chief said the problem was fixed, and then it was fixed. But this was not the case. The coolant leak started again, and Archer watched as the gas swept through the compartment. Everyone was disintegrated before Archer managed to control the leak.

So, Archer knew indeed the results of plasma coolant on an individual. From time to time, he'll wake from sleep in the middle of the night, hearing the blood curdling sounds of everyone that died in engineering. It was all because the engineer was too confident.

Archer entered the access code into the shuttle bay and watched as the pressure hatch slid open to reveal the interior of the bay. Standing on the second level of the bay, he walked to the railing and saw the shuttle waiting for him

The shuttle was actually given a name unlike the shuttle pods that had been previously assigned to _Enterprise_. Archer always smiled when he read the name on the nose of the craft. _Phoenix _2Named after the first warp ship that was created by Zefram Cochrane. The _Phoenix_ 2 was the first warp capable shuttlecraft in Starfleet.

Archer stepped onto the flight deck and saw Ensign Adams standing by the shuttle.

"Ready, sir?" The young ensign said as he stepped aside from the opened hatch.

"Ready, Ensign" he nodded as he entered the cabin that was no larger than that of a shuttle pod. Apparently being able to run at low warps allowed it to be simply called a _shuttle_.

"We'll be home in ten minutes, Captain," Adams said as he entered the cabin and sealed the hatch behind him before he moved to the cockpit.

"Take your time, Ensign," Archer said as he sat down and forward as the propulsion systems began to hum and the pilot requested departure vectors.

As Adams activated the shuttles thrusters pushing them up from the deck in the now depressurized bay, the bay doors slid open to reveal the stars and the large task force that sat in wait for the call to go into battle.

As the _Phoenix_ 2 emerged from the orbital station, he could feel the shuttle bank to port and level out going one-third impulse speed.

The _Phoenix _was taken on from the Earth shipyards upon returning from their mission into the Border Lands to flush out the Vulcan terrorists that were responsible for the assassination of Earth Secretary General Nathan Samuels.

The mission was a joint mission along with Colonel Shran who revealed Andorian Intelligence had uncovered evidence of the assassination.

The crew of _Enterprise_ was once again split up. Just as they were when the assault of the Xindi planet destroyer weapon had occurred. Archer led three squads of MACOs onto the planet with four squads of Elites that were stationed on Shran's ship: the _Khimur_.

The assault occurred in the middle of a sandstorm. The teams stormed the compound. Weapons fire was encountered in the compound as there was an unrelated territory war occurring outside. Once they reached the sub levels of the compound, a self-destruct mechanism had been enabled. A majority of the task force had gotten out. All except for Archer who was caught in rubble.

Everyone refused to leave without Archer. It was unanimous between the crews of _Enterprise_, _Khimur_, and the newly arrived _Columbia_.

Archer had been found three hours later. But not before the three ships were facing down the barrel of every weapon in the system. It was a stand off between these three ships and the ships in the sector of the Borderlands.

The three ships were being ordered to leave the Borderlands, as they held no claim. Nor did they have the right to be in their territory. Upon negotiations, the Borderlanders gave the three ships two hours to find their missing man, and vacate the sector.

Starfleet Command and the High Guard were recalling their ships. They all refused. They stood up against a volatile situation that was presented by the gun happy ships that surrounded them. Not to mention the repercussions that would fall upon them all once they returned to port.

It was three ships against eight. The odds were slim, but they were all willing to go wherever it took to get Archer back. And in the end, there were no repercussions. This was an executive act signed by the new secretary general who was sworn into office onboard the NX 03 _Challenger_ shortly after _Enterprise_ and _Khimur_ left for the Borderlands.

The truth was certainly stranger than fiction to where Archer really was in the two hours he was missing. It was doubtful that anyone could have survived what Archer endured the way the self-destruct caused the building to implode.

The truth was that when _Columbia_ rendezvoused with _Enterprise _who was maintaining distance from the target system, Doctor Phlox was approached by a figure that had visited Archer many of times in the past. This man was the temporal agent Daniels.

Phlox had told Archer upon his return to Enterprise and the three ships were on their way out of the Borderlands, the conversation was _one sided and brief_. All Phlox could do was listen because Daniels didn't have much time to deliver the message. He informed the Denobulan that Archer was indeed alive. He was safe in the future. He was in a so-called _safe house _as there were temporal bounty hunters who were hired to kill Archer on the planet.

"When will you return him?" Phlox asked with the uncanny feeling that everything that was happening to him right now was a dream. It had a surreal mentia to it.

To everyone he was gone for two hours. But for Archer, he was gone for two hundred and nine years. He found himself in 2369, being examined by physician who claimed to be a holographic sentient being. Having served on a Starfleet vessel that was called the _Voyager._

Apparently, Daniels and his team apprehended the time traveling bounty hunters, and he vanished from the 24th century back to the 22nd and was rescued.

"Initiating docking procedures, Captain," Adams spoke over his shoulder. The announcement locked Archer back into the present away from his memories. Ahead of them sat the _Enterprise_ anchored, and her launch bay doors opened, beckoning them home.

_Now it begins_, Archer mused as the shuttle slowed as the docking arm extended down from the open doors. A red navigation light pulsed intermediately giving the shuttle pilot visual clues to whether he was approaching to fast.

_It either begins, or it all ends_, Archer thought dreadfully as the sound of the docking arm coming in contact with the shuttle pod resounded in the cabin.

_It's good to be home_, Archer thought as the arm began to retract and pull them safely inside to the second launch bay which now housed the _Phoenix_, and the maintenance repair bay.

_It's good to be home_, Archer repeated to his self as the fatigue from the day was finally catching up with him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Six**

The lights were dimmed in the room and candles were positioned all across their quarters as Trip laid in a lover's embrace with T'Pol. Silence blended in with the sounds of Trip's warp engine powering the entire ship as he looked up towards her, as they were both covered in sweat.

"So, the Captain didn't need you for the meeting over at CenCom?"

"No," her reply was short and cool. Very unlike their love making which over the years have grown more intense.

Trip rolled onto his side and pushed himself up towards the head of their bed. Laying back, he moved his hand through his misshapen hair. "I take it you've heard the scuttlebutt?"

T'Pol turned her attention to Trip with a quizzical expression. "I will never be able to ascertain your people's colorful metaphors."

"You think that's colorful?" Trip chuckled. "You should had seen the 20th and 21st centuries. I hear those were some _colorful metaphors_."

"Yes," T'Pol replied with the puzzled expression on Trip's face this time.

"Yes what?" Trip said confused.

"Yes I have heard of the rumors in the fleet. Everyone seems to be expecting an offensive assault," T'Pol leaned forward and moved towards the edge of the bed. "It is the same rumor or scuttlebutt that we have been hearing since the war began."

T'Pol stood as it allowed him to admire the shape of her slim body. Even in candle light she was the most beautiful woman she had ever met. Even though at first he didn't notice her.

When she first came on board, she was an alien intruder. Once again, the Vulcan High Command was trying to keep humanity down by assigning a watchdog to the bridge. In time, Archer, his and everyone else on the crew's perception of T'Pol changed. She was a valued asset to the _Enterprise_. She was also the woman who stole his heart out from under him.

"Time will tell I suppose," Trip said as he leaned up just as T'Pol placed a silk robe to cover her nude body. _This would be the best time as any_, Trip thought as he tried to formulate the words he wanted to say.

"So, what are you going to do after the war?" The path began as T'Pol began to extinguish the candles and placed the lights in their cabin to half power.

"Maintain my commission with Starfleet," she responded without missing a beat.

"At least you have career goals. I'm talking more about personal goals?"

T'Pol paused for a moment. She fully realized like everyone else on the ship, she had not really thought about her days after the war. "I hope to maintain my post on Enterprise."

"Haven't thought about it, uh?" Trip asked with a smile as he got up from bed and placed his nightclothes on starting with his pants.

"I have not."

"So has most of the crew. The war's been going on so long; we can't see anything after it."

"What about you?"

Trip smiled as his plans appeared to him before his eyes. "I'm going to buy a new boat, and sail Earth from one side to the other."

"Sounds, fascinating," T'Pol replied not being able to hear the lack of excitement in Trip's plan.

"I'm going to sail the seven seas with only a sextant and the stars as my guide."

After extinguishing the final candle, T'Pol turned around with a bit of surprise on her emotionless expression. The surprise was apparent from the sound of her questions "No form of navigational aid?"

"Just the stars. Just like Columbus," Trip paused as a voice in him began saying _do it not_. "You could come, you know. That is, if you wanted to."

T'Pol returned to bed and lay down. "As fascinating as your voyage sounds, I grow sea sick quite easily."

Trip sits in the chair on his side of the bed and has a surprised expression on his face. "You know, I've known you for ten years, and I've never known that."

_Now is the time_, Trip's voice concluded which inspired Trip to stand from the chair and reach for his uniform that was behind him. Reaching for the shoulder pocket as he began to unzip the pocket. "T'Pol, there's something I want to ask you?" He announced as he pulled out an object and stood on the verge of showing it to T'Pol when the comm went off.

"Engineering to Commander Tucker," the voice of Delta shift's supervising officer, Martin Kelby sounded.

_At the damndest time as always_, Trip hissed to himself as he reached for the comm panel on his nightstand. "Go ahead,"

"_Sir, I know it's late, but would it be possible for you to come to engineering_? We may have found the cause and a further problem with the starboard EPS fluctuations on E-Deck."

"Understood_," _Trip said as he placed the object back in his pocket and began changing into his uniform.

Kelby was a good officer and a damned fine engineer. Their working relationship was rocky at first since Kelby was brought onboard Enterprise to replace him as chief engineer when he served briefly on the _Columbia_. Columbia, _the loss that started this damn war_.

Kelby was perhaps the only engineer qualified other than himself to be the engineer of Starfleet's flagship. He knew the ins and outs of the warp five engines since he worked at the warp five orbital complex.

When Trip returned, he empathized with Kelby. Here, Kelby had made it a chief engineer, to be demoted to his second officer. But his empathies were eased when he found out from Archer that Kelby had approached the skipper to step down to the chief engineer's second officer.

"Don't wait up on me," he said as he slipped into his uniform and zipped the top of the jump suit up.

"Was there something you intended to ask me?" T'Pol asked as she lay on her side watching her lover about to leave for work.

"It can wait," Trip smiled as he leaned over the bed and gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Be back as soon as I can," he said before he reached the door and slipped into the corridor.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Seven

Jonathan Archer stood at the end of the situation table located in the aft compartment of the bridge. To his right stood T'Pol, Malcolm and Travis. To his left were Trip, Hoshi and Phlox.

Behind Archer on the wall screen showed the scanner logs that were recorded by Trip and Travis' excursion deep behind enemy lines on the cell ship. At the top was the designation of the tactical plan that Archer was briefing his staff on: _Operation Foothold_.

"We'll be using the first, second and third fleet for the assault into Romulan territory," Archer said as he examined the shock on everyone's face. Even T'Pol had the slightest expression to his announcement.

"That will leave the frontlines barely defended," Malcolm voiced everyone's concern.

"That's why we can't fail. The mission will be divided into two wings: Rapier wing will storm through the front door." On the screen behind him, three icons that represented the attack force entering Romulan territory. "Rapier wing's objective is to hit the Romulans head on and give us a diversion for us to attack that central command and communications hub here at Cheron."

"Us?" Trip inquired.

"Spartan wing which we will lead will enter through the side." A single icon was shown entering the system." Archer entered a command on the panel before him as the display zoomed in to reveal the ships of the Advance wing: NX-01 _Enterprise_, NX-03 _Challenger_, NX-04 _Discovery_ and NX-05 _Atlantis_. Accompanying them was a support group of eight Broadswords.

"Our objective is to hit this system," Archer continued as he brought up their target system.

"That looks strangely familiar," Trip remarked as he looked over to Travis who nodded silently.

"Cheron," Archer voiced, "the location of the Romulan's command in control facility." The CinC facility appeared on screen that was available compliments of Trip and Travis' recon op. The bridge crew looked at the massive platform that orbited around a M-Class world.

"We take this out," he turned around and pointed at the orbital facility, "we take out their forward lines of command and their ranks will fall."

Archer paused to give his staff an opportunity to ask questions. But he knew his crew well. They would wait to voice their questions after his brief was concluded.

Archer entered another command, as there was silence around the table. On the screen was a map, which showed Cheron and another system beyond it. "This leaves us in the Romulan home world's back yard."

"And to think," Malcolm smiled, "I bet they didn't expect us for dinner."

The remark lightened the atmosphere as Trip angled his head to the side. It was a massive task that was for sure. "I can modify our warp signature and energy out put run stealth," Trip shrugged his shoulder. "But the Romulans always seem to find us."

Archer nodded and brought up a long-range scan of a comet. The screen indicated the comet's designation was Icarus IV. "This comet will make its one hundred and five year orbit through this system to Cheron." The icon representing Spartan wing vanishes in the tail of the animated comet. The sequence fast forwards till the comet reaches Cheron and the icon emerges and proceeds to the CinC Orbital station.

"We'll run stealth, and hit Cheron before they know what hit them while Rapier is stirring up a distraction."

"That's one hell of a distraction," Trip remarked.

"What are Cheron's defenses?" Malcolm inquired.

"Trip and Travis' recon indicates a wing of Talon interceptors and two war bird assault groups. Surviving intel from the downed war bird shows that on the planet surface, Romulans operate ground to orbital batteries which are controlled by a command bunker."

The screen showed captured data that had been translated from the war bird's computer core. On the southern continent, located on the equator was the command bunker.

"As soon as we hit Cheron, Rapier wing will disengage the enemy and warp to our position. I need not to express the importance of achieving orbital superiority before they arrive.

"So, let me get this right," Trip began. "We're looking at fifteen Talon interceptors, five support ships, and their defense guns?"

"_And_ surface to air batteries," Archer added on.

"And the SAMs," Trip nodded.

"Four NX ships and eight Broadswords,: Archer said. "We can't risk any more ships with the fear of our location being discovered in the tail before zero hour."

"It's going to be rough," Trip, announced the obvious.

"_Enterprise_ and the other NX ships can handle the debris from the comet's tail," Travis voiced. "But the Broadswords---"

"--Will hug the NXs like Remoras to a shark," Archer announced as he brought that animation sequence up. "We'll carry them through until we emerge from the comet."

"There will be no doubt heavy casualties for the operation," Phlox concluded. Now he knew why he was brought into a strategic briefing.

"_Very_ high," Archer responded to the Denobulan's concern. "We're looking at a eighty five percent casualty rate."

The gathered command staff collectively felt a huge weight on their shoulders. Archer acknowledged their fears and concerns. Not to mention a drop in the ship's climate. Seventy five percent was huge. But the battle was worth it. He hoped.

"If you will excuse my absence, I must begin work in sickbay and coordinate with the other NX ship doctors immediately. Since the Broadswords do not have a medical support system to handle the casualties, I will put in a request to Central Command to transfer equipment and personnel."

Archer nodded, dismissing the doctor. "What ever you need, Doctor."

Phlox nodded his head and took his leave.

"That's an awful lot of weapon platforms to cut our way through," Hoshi commented as the screen changed to the Cheron Theater. "It's never been done before."

"After we reach our drop off point and pull out of the comet's tail, we'll use the auto-navigation system to pilot the cell ship with an atomic payload to the outer region of the weapon platforms."

The screen shifted as they saw the blip indicating the Cell ship take up position in open space before the massive defense battery field.

"After we're in range, we'll detonate the payload and cut a path through their platforms."

"With all the atomic fallout, that'll muck up our targeting sensors pretty good," Travis voiced.

"And the surviving platform sections as well," Malcolm affirmed as he realize the tactical advantage of the fallout.

"Once we're inside the sphere of operations, we'll encounter the orbital defense wing, the surviving orbital platforms and be in range of the surface batteries. Two Broadswords will break off from the battle, and bombard the command bunker with atomics. Thus disabling the weapon platforms."

The more he narrated the mission, the more it sounded to Archer that they would be able to pull it off. In fact, he had the same reactions that his crew was having when he was informed of the operation last night.

"_Discovery_, _Atlantis_, and the Broadswords will contend with the defense wing. _Enterprise_ and _Challenger_ will move into position and take out the orbital station."

"Back to the orbital bombardment," Malcolm spoke. "Would it not be better to have an NX escort the Broadswords?"

"It was considered," Archer replied. "But we are all going to be stretched pretty thin."

As the staff absorbed the details, Travis stated his idea of the entire operation. "Sounds like a plan."

Archer nodded as he looked at Trip and Travis. "Trip, I want you and Travis to work on modifying the cell ship for its last flight." He concentrated his sight on Trip. "Run diagnostics one after the other on the cloaking system. If that cloak sputters while in the platform's weapons range, then we'll have to do this the hard way."

_And increase the casualty rate to one hundred percent_, Trip mused disturbingly. If that were the case, there would be no way to win. They'd have to retreat from the frontier. Being pursued by the Romulans on their heels all the way back to the Alpha Quadrant. The sheer thought of that possibility was not pleasant at all.

"Malcolm," Archer's voice snapped Trip out of his lamentations, "get the warheads ready to be transferred when the cell has a clean bill of health."

Malcolm nodded as he brought up a slight concern. "We'll have to take out the seats."

The staff smirked at his remark as T'Pol looked ice cold as usual.

"Travis, run some simulations. T'Pol, you run diagnostics on the ANP. Any further questions?"

The staff was silent. His crew had their tasks and he had every ounce of faith in them. "One more thing, Malcolm. After transferring the payload to the cell ship, we're being loaded out with a full load out of atomics."

"We're already stocked to capacity. I don't know where we'll store them."

"If you have to, take over the MACOs side of armory. Colonel April will understand."

_Indeed he would_, Malcolm thought. "Yes, sir." The commanding officer of the MACO compliment stationed on Enterprise, Colonel Matthew April was indeed a departure from Major Hayes who commanded the MACOs during their mission in the Expanse. Having come on board _Enterprise_ after she embarked from space dock after their return from the Borderlands to apprehend the Vulcan terrorists that assassinated the Secretary General Samuels.

When putting both MACOs side by side, they were polar opposites. April didn't enjoy stepping on Malcolm's toes when he came onboard. Unlike Hayes, who concluded that Malcolm and his "squids" would simply get in the way of him and his "sharks".

"Departure time is in nine hours. Zero hour in thirteen hundred."

Everyone picked up Trip muttered "Lucky thirteen." Archer especially noticed his chief engineers behavior at the briefing.

"Good luck," Archer dismissed everyone. The staff went onto their tasks as Trip expected to be asked to stay behind. Archer stepped forward on his way to his ready room when Trip realized he wasn't being asked to stay after class.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Eight**

11:30 hours, ship standard time. Lunchtime.

The mess hall was packed with the lunch crowd as Malcolm and Travis were in the middle of the line that they both imagined was all the way out into the corridor. Since the crew was on standby, a majority of the crew in line had been allowed to take leave of their duties, which required their attention when the ship was active.

Travis and Malcolm stood silent. They occasionally exchanged words as a majority of the time they listened to the crew around them. Everyone had been briefed on the mission. Some of them were scared. Those that weren't overtly frightened hid that fear through bravado. Others were gung ho for the fight.

Then the different conversations in the mess all changed to one topic as lunch was being brought out from the kitchen. The smell of an actually cooked meal was welcome and often missed.

Since the outbreak of the war, meals had been reduced to ration packs and freeze dried meals. In earlier days, they were called MREs. _Or Meals Rejected by the Enemy_.

"Real food," Travis exclaimed. "I haven't had that since Helo 7."

"It's a military tradition right before soldiers are sent on a critical mission," he lowered his voice as he grabbed a spoon a dipped it into the pot of potatoes. "They're served the best," he said as he leaned closer to Travis' ear."

"Critical," Travis whispered, "or suicide mission?"

Reed shrugged his shoulder as he took a bite of steak and proceed down the line as he saw Archer and Chef enter through the kitchen area. Laughter began to erupt as everyone noticed that Archer was wearing an apron. "Well that's something you don't see every day," he managed before the chow crowd applauded.

"Now here this," Chef said in a raised voice to cut through the chatter in _his_ mess. "We have a special event for us today," Chef glanced over to Archer with a smile and returned his attention to the eyes of the hungry crew. "Captain Archer has _volunteered_ to deliver the chow."

More applause for Archer as Chef patted Archer on his shoulder and joined in with the clapping.

"And how long did it take you to serve chow, sir?" Chef asked as Archer regarded the man over his shoulder with a heart felt smile.

"Nine years," his voice carried through the mess and to everyone who were in the corridors blocking the hatch to catch a glimpse as to what the celebrations were about.

"Nine _long_ years! That's pretty good. Some captains serve the duration of their commands without ever lifting a finger to serve the troops."

Archer shook Chef's hand before he stepped forward to address his troops. The faces he looked at were veterans pure and simple. They were heroes and the finest example of what Starfleet encouraged in a crew.

_Once more unto the breach_, Archer thought to himself.

"You all know our mission," he said as his eyes scanned over Malcolm and Travis who were waiting to seat down at their tables. "You know it seems grim, and impossible."

The crew reacted to Archer's words in agreement. Probably not anyone on _Enterprise_ knew they would live through the engagement. What made Archer proud the most were that they had all accepted that fact, and were ready to make history. Win or loose.

Archer knew he had to find the words to bring the morale up. "We're standing here today, evident that we can make the impossible possible."

The crew clapped their hands. Archer wasn't playing on words with the crew to raise their morale. He would simply tell them the truth. That was the least they deserved.

"Be mindful of your training. Be aware you have crew to watch your back and not leave you alone. We're all in the same boat."

Several crew nodded their heads with newfound encouragement. "Now, I won't lie to you. This mission is estimated to have the heaviest casualty rate since the beginning of the war," Archer said as he stepped closer to the gathering crowd and gestured to his uniform. "But we all knew the risks when we signed up for Starfleet. To seek out new worlds." _But no one ever signed up for a war_. "We never thought we would come down to this," Archer paused. "But it has. But together we are united. Together, I promise you, we will succeed."

A roaring applause louder than the captain had ever heard from his crew before bombarded his ears as the chow crowd proceeded down the line to get their food.

Catching Archer by surprise was Chef who placed a server's cap on his head. Archer smiled at the gesture. He smiled at the spirits of the crew. But he knew as he helped serve the food behind the counter, that a good many of those that walked past him would never make it out.

"Now here this!" Chef roared. "Chow is served!"

As Archer helped serve the meal, unknowing to him that Trip was one of the many who were crowded at the hatch into the mess. He had heard the entire speech. Suddenly he didn't have an appetite anymore as he decided to get as far away from the captain as he could.

Departure time for both Rapier and Spartan wings was in five hours.

Archer sat in his captain's mess with his meal before him that he dabbled at. He couldn't find an appetite. His guest this evening was Colonel Shran who had brought onboard a bottle of Andorian ale.

"You know," Shran said as he took a sip of his ale. "Once we bring this war to an end, we are _all_ going to be heroes."

Archer sipped on his ale. He mostly concentrated on his glass of water. All he needed was to go into a battle with a hang over. _A good thing Andorians can control their effect of alcohol better that humans. _

"I've thought about it like that," Archer responded as he took a bite of his roast beef. Dreading the hero worship that he was welcomed with when returning after the mission to save Earth.

"They'll erect monuments for the ages to come to marvel at!" Shran smiled as he slammed his hand down on the table. "Even name schools in our names."

"You mean that hasn't happened to you yet?" Archer grinned as he took a small sip of the ale. The contents of the ale froze and burned its way down his throat.

"You!" Shran pointed at Archer. The word was obvious that he had enjoyed the ale a little too much this evening. "You have schools in your namesake?"

"Two," Archer replied coolly.

Silence reigned until Shran opened up with laughter and downed the rest of his ale. "Shran laughs as he drops another gulp of ale and gestures at the view port where the task force sat anchored. "If anyone had ever told me, that I would be fling into battle with you humans, Tellarites and Vulcans, I would have most certainly said they had been drinking in excess."

"If anyone would had told me, that in nine years I would be going from exploring to a full scale war, I probably would have stayed at home."

Shran regarded Archer for a moment. This pink skin was unlike any other he had ever met before. A formidable ally he was. Gods forbid if their paths had taken another direction where they would have to confront one another. That would indeed be an interesting day.

"I have never met a pink skin with your sense of humor. You have a sense of humor, a heart of an Andorian, and the common sense the gods gave the Vulcans."

Archer narrowed his eyes at the statement. "I don't now if I should take that as a compliment or an insult."

"That does not matter," Shran waved the conversation away. "What matters is, that one way or another, this war ends here and today."

"That's what everyone back home is hoping," Archer said with a bit of pessimism. It was the same pessimism that Trip had displayed at the mission brief.

"I hope to stand next to you in the Great Hall on Andor where you will be praised as the wisest warrior of the entire quadrant. Well, second to me off course."

"Off course," Archer responded as he replenished his water glass.

"You haven't touched your ale, Archer. Are done already? We haven't even got through our first bottle yet."

"What? Are you planning on sleeping through the engagement?

"I sure as hells am not looking forward to going through it sober."

The words resounded in the compartment as Archer broke out into laughter. Shran followed suite as he pushed his ale glass to the side and began to drink from the glass that had ice tea in it.

"You're right. You're right. Plenty of time to drink upon our victory, after the victory."

"What are you going to do?" Archer asked which caught Shran by surprise.

"Well, I'm going to try to make it out of this compartment, and pretend to be as sober as possible. It's just what you pink skins need to see is an Andorian drunk before a battle. That could give us a nasty reputation of drunks in battle. Like the Klingons."

_Klingons_. It was a phrase that Archer didn't hear mentioned much these days. "The Klingons. Now they would have been a worth ally."

"The Klingons?" Shran said surprised. "They would only ally themselves to a cause if it would suit them in the end."

"It would have kept the Romulans in their corner of the universe. May be this war never would had began. Or it would have ended a lot sooner," Archer said with fatigue in his voice. Not physical fatigue, but that of fighting the war for so long.

"And then," Shran said as he picked up his knife off the table and pointed it at Archer, "they would stab you in the back or slice your head off with a bat'leth! The Klingons will never be trust worthy."

"The same was said about Andorians, Vulcans and Tellarites," Archer said as his attention turned to the gathered fleet. "Now look at us, today."

"Standing at the edge of chaos and oblivion. About to dive in," Shran's words ended with a smile. "But who desires to live forever?"

Archer recognized the phrase as an old Earth saying. But apparently, all phrases were universal on some level.

Shran stood from his chair without ease. He had to brace himself against the table to stand upright. Oh this is just great, Archer thought as the Andorian raised his glass.

Archer rose with more ease and raised his glass in return. "To our mortality," Shran toasted. "May we live each moment to its fullest."

Archer tipped his glass forward. "To our future," he said as he completed the toast.

"Any way," Shran sat back in his chair. Or his legs failed and gravity returned him to the seat. "You're going to die one day. Why prolong the inevitable?"

Archer shook his head in amusement. "You are an interesting drunk."

"_This_?" Shran said in surprise. "This isn't drunk," he said with a straight expressionless face.

_God, is he kidding_? Archer asked himself or anyone who was out there listening. "You never answered my question?"

Shran's response was a blank stare. Had he really drank too much?

"What are you going to do when you get home?"

_Ah, that question_, Shran thought. He hadn't excessed himself in the ale after all. Those thoughts vanished as they tuned into his family. "Hold my child in my arms, and tell her mother how much I love her."

It had been six long years since the Romulan attempt to spark a quadrant war by turning the denizens of the alpha quadrant onto one another. Six years since he had lost his tactical officer and lover, Lieutenant Talas to that Tellarite swine.

It was a dark time for Shran. He had lost his lover, and his ship the _Kumari_. Then the gods sent him a small ounce of hope in the form of the Jhamel. Jhamel was the sister of the Aenar who controlled the marauder drone cruisers that were being used to spark a quadrant war.

After the loss of the _Kumari_, he shared a few months with Jhamel before his posting as liaison officer on the _Enterprise_. After reporting back to the High Guard of what kind of people the humans were, then came the decision to accelerate their technological development by assisting the _pink skins_.

After it seemed that the High Guard still believed that Shran had some use in him, he was given his new command. Shortly after Shran left for the frontlines, Jhamel had made the announcement that she was pregnant with his child. The announcement made it harder for him to leave her and the child behind. But duty came first. That was four years ago.

"And you? Will you take on a mate and have many offsprings?"

The question directed to him was on a matter that Archer had never thought about. Sure he's had relationships. One lover in particular died after being rescued from the _Columbia_. That was perhaps the closes deepest relationship he has ever had. And the important thing with them was not children, but duty.

"I've never seen myself as the type that settles down and raises a family."

"You are an only sibling are you not?"

"Yes."

"Then who will be there to carry on your legacy?"

"May be one day," Archer concluded as his plans played before his eyes in his mind. "First thing I'm going to when I get back is to take a walk on the beach. I've spent so much time traveling through the stars, that I forgot how it felt to stand on the beach and look up."

"And what of your future in Starfleet?"

"That's the mystery," Archer confided with a little hint of fear in his voice. "I hope to keep _Enterprise_, but I--"

"Wonder if she'll belong to another captain." Shran nodded as he completed the sentence.

Archer nodded his head as Shran raised his water glass and he raised his own.

"To our ships, may they continue to soar."

"Cheers," Archer said as Shran stood from his chair with slight improvement from his last endeavor.

"Any way, look at it this way. If Starfleet has no more need for you, you would make a fine Imperial Guardsman. I may be able to _put in a good word for you_ as you humans say. Once I'm promoted to general when we get home that is."

"General?" Archer smiled at the term. "Why not president?"

"Bah!" Shran hissed as he banged his hand on the tabletop. "I have been and never will be a politician." He leaned forward and began pointing at himself. "I am a warrior. The warrior that will be the first to bring their flagship down into flames!"

_The flagship_, Archer thought somberly. The ship that would no doubt be leading the resistance against Rapier wing. Archer gazed to his side at the view as he recalled every other engagement against the ship that was nicknamed the _Behemoth_.

"Every engagement with it, has always ended badly," Archer stated the single fact that was the supporting factor in the diminishing morale of the fleet. "Any Allied ship to engage the Behemoth never returned."

"Rumors state that it is constructed of an in-destructible allow," Shran stated the opinion. In truth, no starship has ever been able to capture a thorough scan of the enemy ship. All they were ever able to capture was a long ranged profile of it. "The superstitious of the fleet believe that it was dipped into the fire of their demon gods."

Archer took a sip of his half full tea glass. Or half empty glass. "We don't know enough about them to conclude anything about their religion. If they even have one."

"We don't even know what these bastards as you call them look like!"

Archer maintained his poker face as he thought i_f you only knew_.

"One way or the other," Shran began as he stood from the captain's table. "Their _Behemoth_ will fall."

Archer rose as he set his glass down. He looked at the hope that had been re-ignited into his antennae blue-skinned comrade that had become a close friend over the years.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening," Shran bowed. "I hope to do this again in orbit over their burning home world."

"Thank you for your company this evening," Archer nodded to Shran's words as he stepped away from his chair to see him off. If anything, Archer hoped that it wouldn't come to the genocidal extermination of a sentient species to end this war.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Nine**

"So how'd the evening go with Shran?" A voice sounded from behind Archer as he left the transporter alcove after seeing Shran and the remainder of his bottle of ale off the ship.

Archer turned to find Trip walking towards him. "I hear the mess could hear glasses being thrown against the bulkhead," Trip continued as he walked up beside Archer and followed the corridor.

"An Andorian custom," Archer shrugged his shoulder.

"To get plastered before a fight? Just great."

"You didn't stay in the mess very long," Archer said as the two rounded the corner into the main passageway as they passed crew that acknowledged them.

"I had some things to do in engineering," Trip said as he could tell from the sound of his own voice that Archer wouldn't buy into it.

"Commander Kelby said you weren't around when I looked for you earlier."

_Busted, _Trip mused. "I just had some things I had to think about."

Archer came to a stop and turned to look at Trip when he addressed him. "What's going on, Trip? I've known you a longtime, and I know when something's bugging you." The silence that Archer was given was more evidence that something was on Trip's mind.

Archer examined his surrounding, and gestured for Trip to follow him to a manual hatchway that led to a comm relay station. Archer opened the hatch and slid it aside as Trip entered and Archer closed the hatch behind them.

"Trip, I'm your friend. Tell me."

"How could you do it?" Trip asked firmly.

"What?" Archer asked not following Trip's question. Did he drink too much?

Lie to those kids in the mess," Trip announced as he began to pace the deck. "_But together we are united. Together, I promise you, we will succeed_."

The words sounded different than they sounded he made the statement.

"We've been in some pretty mucked up situations before, Trip announced as he stopped in front of Archer. "Never once did you promise we would succeed! _They're only kids_! How do you know?"

Archer reacted off the bluntness from Trip. Everything would be settled before they left the communication station. "They're soldiers, Trip. We're not the way we were nine years ago. The Expanse changed us all. This war has changed us all."

"How do you _know_?" Trip repeated his question. "Did you have a meeting with your time traveler friend Daniels? Please tell me you did," he said as he hoped Archer would say yes. Then, he would feel better at knowing what they were about to dive into had a good ending.

"Trip, do you trust me?"

"Answer me, damnit!" Trip's outburst took both men by surprise. As soon as the exclamation left Trip's mouth he immediately regretted the way he was treating Archer.

"If you ever trusted me before, then this is a time I need that trust back."

Trip didn't respond as he attempted to calm himself before saying anything else. _The Boss doesn't deserve this. Especially coming from me, for God's sake_! _He's just trying to keep this ship together_.

"I want to Boss. I really do," Trip said as his soul sounded lost. He didn't know who to believe and where to turn.

Archer stepped closer to Trip and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I need you focused, Trip. It's going to be a long road."

Trip nodded his head as Archer firmly squeezed his shoulder. Letting him know not in words, but that everything that happened between them was over.

Archer began to open the hatch when Trip stated "This war." Archer stopped and looked around. "Do you even know why we've been killing ourselves out here? And for what? Because I've been asking myself that for almost four years now. And I don't have an answer."

It was a question that Archer had asked himself from time to time. But, he didn't want to give Trip the _we go where we're told_ _speech_.

"All we had to do was leave this corner of the galaxy and go somewhere else. God knows there's still plenty of space out here. If we pulled the Saharans out, then my son would still have his mother."

"Trip," Archer began as he chose his coming words. "No one has the right to tell us where we can and can't go, Trip. Not the Vulcans, not the Klingons, and not the damned _Romulans_." Archer realized that every time he spoke their name, there was hatred that spilled from his tone.

"Say we did follow the Romulan's warnings and the Vulcan's counsel, what then? The quadrant, hell the universe would see that we're weak and can be bullied around. Can you imagine our future? Not just humanity, but the Coalition's future?"

Archer knew he was reaching out to Trip, as he stood silent. "And just say for a moment that we did obey, we've seen the patterns these Romulans have. First it was the minefield, and then it was their attempts to spark a quadrant wide war. Then the Romulan sightings while we were away in the Expanse."

"Then _Columbia_," Trip said softly. "Do you think we started this war?"

Archer didn't know how to answer that. _Enterprise_ was threatened in the minefield. Then it was the marauder drone ship that was trying to instigate a war with all the quadrant's super powers. Next came the Romulan sightings by Earth's frontier bases.

Finally there was _Columbia_. Their sister ship, violating Starfleet general orders not to violate the No Fly Zone. _Columbia_ violating that order to come to the aid of political refugees who were attempting to leave the oppression of the Romulan Star Empire behind them. _Erika always had a heart for the oppressed_, Archer thought as next came the images from the ship's visual log when the refugee ship was attacked by their own kind. Then they turned their guns on _Columbia_.

Did _Columbia_ instigate the war in some way? He didn't know for sure.

All I know is the now. In the now, there will not be a Starfleet or a Coalition by a year's time. This ends here. Today."

Trip stood in deep thought as he absorbed Archer's words. "I'm sorry," he said with guilt on his face. He looked as if he could curl up in a shell.

"Don't be sorry, Trip," Archer said as he moved to the hatch. Looking over his shoulder the final words would be"Just do your job."

Trip stayed in the comm station for a moment as Archer proceeded to the nearest turbo lift on the deck.

As Archer reached the turbo lift, there was a battle that was waging within his self. The battle of to whether or not to tell Trip how he knew they would manage the day.

The truth was that Trip was halfway correct. _Did you have a meeting with your time traveler friend Daniels_? _Please tell me you did._

Just not recently. The last time he saw Daniels was back when _Enterprise_ was catapulted into Nazi occupied America during the 1940s. Then he was dieing, pleading with _Enterprise_ to stop the Temporal Cold War faction that was changing history at an alarming rate.

But before he was dieing in sickbay, he met with him a day or so earlier. Well, _met_ wasn't exactly the right word. Whenever Daniels wanted to talk with Archer, he would be pulled from his own time to another. This time, he was witnessing the signing of the Federation.

"It's essential that you be apart of this," Daniels pleaded with Archer on that balcony. Trying his best to convince Archer not to lead the assault on the Xindi weapon.

"My mission is to save Earth. Not _your_ Federation."

"You can't ignore your place in history!"

Perhaps this was his place in history. To end the war, which during the reconstruction would be the birth of _this_ United Federation of Planets? An organization that spanned through the known universe.

Since Archer had not seen or heard from him since being in the 1940s, he could only assume that time was back on track. And this was how history would play out before everyone's eyes. But then again, Daniels was not around when that time traveler from the 24th Century showed up before the war broke out.

He was a member of an alien fellowship known as the Travelers. Wesley Crusher was his name. A man that sent them through a dead star and into a dimension of reality that was a mirror for their own. A mirror universe where Earth had turned into a tyrannical dictatorship. A fate that was the downfall of the home world as an alliance of alien that had conquered Earth.

Not only did they traverse their dimension into another, they leaped forward in time on the same day. _That had to be a record being broke somewhere_, Archer through as the turbo lift arrived at his destination and he proceeded to the launch bay.

If not for this Wesley Crusher who showed up in a 24th century fighter known as a Valkryie, he and the rest would had probably never known who was manipulating the Suliban in the Temporal Cold War. A man named Tiberius Kirk. He was a man who once ruled a mighty Empire. When _Enterprise_ was escorted to the last outpost for humanity at the edge of the known universe in an asteroid field, he was emperor of a refugee camp.

Kirk's intention was to stop the ever so popular Federation from ever being created. Apparently, there was a cross over event when this Kirk changed places with his counterpart of Archer's dimension. It would be his counterpart, Captain James Tiberius Kirk that would implant the seeds that would eventually overthrow the Empire.

On that day, they may never had succeeded in overthrowing the man that Archer only referred to as Future Guy if not for the enslaved Augments that were being used to mine ore to keep the colony alive until the refugee fleet was forced to go farther out to find safety.

Ever since that day, Archer had argued why Daniels didn't appear to him instead of Wesley Crusher. A man who _stole _a Federation craft to help in achieving his objective. Apparently, the Travelers had an _observe only _mandate. So when the Travelers could not condone Wesley's mission in preserving the timeline, he was stripped of all his powers that were not naturally developed.

No one remembered the events of their encounter with Wesley Crusher. Well, except for Archer himself. And not a day had gone by that he did no wonder why he remembered and no one else. What was so special to remember?

No matter, Archer answered his question, as he knew he would never see this Wesley Crusher again to ask him. Or Daniels for that matter. The timeline had been repaired once and for all.

And now, here they were _once more unto the breach_, Archer thought as the launch bay was straight ahead. _Trying to survive to see another day_.

When Archer entered his command code to give him access to the launch bay, he wasn't surprised to see Travis walking circles around the Cell ship with a padd in his hand.

"How's it coming?" Archer said as he walked by shuttle pod 1 and to Travis and the Cell ship.

"Captain? What are you still doing up?" Travis asked as he lowered the padd to his side.

"I never could sleep before an engagement," Archer revealed as he looked at the sitting sphere craft.

"She's good to go," Travis said as he proceeded to the open hatch where the "front" of the craft was. He pointed at two warheads that Malcolm had harnessed in the cockpit. "Warhead clocks are synced, and cloak tests at a hundred and seven percent."

"Excellent job," Archer praised without any understatement. One oh seven percent was a miracle as he continued to look at the craft. Reminiscing of the first time they came into the possession of the craft after rescuing that Klingon from the Suliban Helix base on their maiden voyage. _What was that Klingon's name_? _Klaag_! _That was it_, Travis thought as he solved the question that had riddled him the past couple of days.

"I never got the chance to tell you, but it's good to have you and Trip back," Archer glanced over to Travis who nodded his thanks.

"Believe me; it's good to be back. The last time I flew on an Intrepid was my training tour after I graduated from Flight Academy." Archer moved his position to get a better look at the Remote Navigation Device that was attached to the con and flight support controls.

"And I head we missed some excitement while we were gone," Travis continued on as Archer returned his attention to Travis.

"Not to worry. There's plenty left to go around."

The two grew silent as Travis glanced down at his padd. Archer could tell he had a question on his mind as he always glanced away at his station or a padd.

"What's on your mind, Travis?"

"Do you; really think this is a good plan?"

A question that seems to be going around, Archer thought as a comforting expression formed on his face. That expression of a smile and a nod. "You bet," Archer replied as he placed his hand gently onto the Cell's hatch. "And this little ship is what's going to give us the ace in the hold we need.

"She's been a tough little ship," he said as he continued to pet the hull as if he was petting Porthos. "She's gotten us out of many a though times," he said as his mind went back to the time when Malcolm and Archer were taken into custody on that alien world so long ago when they were trying to recover a lost communicator.

"But there's something missing," Archer's expression grew serious.

"Sir?" Travis said alert as he examined his padd. "Everything's been checked out."

"Oh, I haven't a doubt. She just a minor cosmetic alterations."

Archer glanced at Travis who stood confused. _Cosmetic alterations_ his expression was saying.

"Recall your Earth military history. During the wars on Earth, on the eve of a bombing run, it was a tradition to inscribe remarks on the weapons that would be dropped on the enemy targets."

A nova appeared in Travis' eyes as he remembered. "And when the wars stopped, so did the tradition."

"Let's rekindle that tradition. Shall we?" Archer said as he placed his hand on Travis' shoulder.

"Yes, sir," Travis smiled.

"Good work, Travis," Archer praised before he proceeded out of the bay.

"Thank you sir," Travis replied. And as Archer exited the bay, Travis stood facing the ship that would be sacrificed for the greater good. Or as the Vulcans say: _the needs of the few out weight the needs of the one_.

It was crazy for Travis to feel a familiarity with the Cell ship. But she had always seemed to be there to fall back on. And now, she was going out in a blaze of glory.

"It's time," Archer whispered to himself as the turbo lift stopped its ascent and the door slid aside to reveal the bridge.

"Captain on the bridge," T'Pol announced where everyone regarded him as he stepped foot on the deck. T'Pol at science, Hoshi at communications, Travis at the conn, Malcolm at tactical. The only station to be empty was engineering. Trip currently was located in engineering making the last adjustments to the power grid.

Archer stepped toward his seat as a chime sounded from Hoshi's station. "Receiving orders from Cen Com to get underway," she announced with her hand keeping her earpiece in place.

Not a full five seconds had gone by when another chime sounded. "Incoming message from Colonel Shran," she looked at Archer as he took his seat.

"Put it up," Archer said with a grin.

Colonel Shran replaced the stars cape on the view screen as he sat on the bridge of his ship that was part of the force that would lead the charge into Romulan territory.

"_Well, Archer, are you ready to make history?"_

"Ready," Archer nodded as he noticed the high spirits of the Andorian who over the years had become a good friend and ally.

"We will _see you on the other side," _Shran nodded courteously as their was movement from his antennae. _Try not to win this war single handedly, uh? There are plenty in the fleet that would like to be legends."_

"We wouldn't think about it," Archer returned.

"Good fortunes, _Enterprise_."

"See you on the other side."

Shran vanished as the starcape returned. Archer marveled at the comradeship that had emerged between him and Thy'lek Shran. Their first encounter was at the planet that housed the Vulcan monastery, P'Jem.

Literally, the two captains were at each other's throats. If they had not stumbled upon the covert listening operations that was hidden in the monastery that Shran believed was there, there would had been no telling what would had happened then.

Then, there was the Andorian mortal combat ritual that Archer participated in with Shran on their journey to Babel. Each encounter with Shran surprisingly deepened into trust. If not for Shran's assistance in the Expanse, Earth would have been destroyed.


End file.
